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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704798">Unknown allies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwissPear/pseuds/SwissPear'>SwissPear</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action &amp; Romance, Action/Adventure, Banter, F/M, Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars), Not Canon Compliant, Plotty, Sexual Tension, Siblings, Touch-Starved</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:21:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>40,314</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwissPear/pseuds/SwissPear</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A mysterious stranger keeps popping up to help Mando and the Child. Mando has to figure out who she is and why she seems to get a kick out of helping them. </p><p>Starts as alternate to Season 1: Episode 6 "The Prisoner" and runs to somewhere mid Season 2</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23356024">Neera</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwissPear/pseuds/SwissPear">SwissPear</a>.
        </li>
        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291433">Neera: Little Prequels, Sequels, and other snippets after Neera Part I</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwissPear/pseuds/SwissPear">SwissPear</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Same characters and backgrounds as 'Neera' Part I &amp; II, but alternate first meeting and plot going forward. Can be read as a standalone.</p><p>Starts as alternate to Season 1: Episode 6 "The Prisoner" and runs to somewhere mid Season 2</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mando did not like anything about this crew. Every once in awhile, he would catch himself missing the feeling of the group, the feeling of shared danger. But now that he was back, it didn't take long to remember why he had left.</p><p>At least Ran could be interesting company. He would definitely stab you in the back when it suited him, but between those moments, he was good for entertaining conversation.</p><p>This Mayfeld just seemed insecure. The blank stare of the helmet always made people like him uneasy. Mayfeld would spend every interaction trying to prove to himself that he was just as good as Mando.</p><p>The Devaronian, Burg, clearly was only here because he liked to smash things. He would barely care about finishing the job as long as he got to destroy some things along the way. And currently, that thing was a Mandalorian.</p><p>Mayfeld and Ran walked him to the rest of the crew.</p><p>"Droid's name is Zero," Mayfeld told him.</p><p>The droid looked Mando up and down, then promptly ignored him. <em>Great, not only a droid, but a droid with an attitude.</em></p><p>Then Mayfled walked him to a table where a woman bent over a floor plan, a heavy satchel at her back. Mayfeld nodded at her. "...And this is Neera. She knows the location," he explained.</p><p>The woman looked up from what she was doing. She froze when she saw Mando.</p><p>"You didn't say anything about a Mandalorian joining," she pointed out to Ran.</p><p>"Is that a problem?" Mayfeld turned to her, immediately bristling at the slightest questioning of his authority.</p><p>The woman's face was expressionless as she looked over the new crew member in front of her. Save for a faint scar on one cheek, her face gave no hint of her background or motives. Mando left this one as a question mark.</p><p>She eyed Mando's armor for another beat, then shrugged, going back to the sprawl of papers on the table.</p><p>"I thought you said you had five," Mando pointed out.</p><p>"He does," a voice behind him said.</p><p><em>Shit.</em> He knew that voice.</p><p>"Hello, Mando," Xi'an purred.</p><p>"Xi'an," he responded carefully.</p><p>For someone who acted like the stone-cold killer, Xi'an had a lot of emotions, none of them particularly healthy. She would most likely try to stab him, or fuck him...or possibly a confused mix of both at the same time.</p><p>He looked at the crew and sighed. Well, this was going to be fun.</p><p>--------------------------<br/>
Mando looked at the hologram of the floor plan and immediately grew angry.</p><p>"That's a new republic prison ship," he pointed out. "Your man wasn't taken by a rival syndicate. He was arrested," Mando said through gritted teeth.</p><p>"So what," Mayfeld taunted him.</p><p>"A job is a job," Ran said, eyeing him.</p><p>Of course they were doing this. "That's a max security transport, and I'm not looking for that kind of heat," he continued to press.</p><p>"Well, good thing Neera here is a former escapee of this prison. She knows her way around inside," Ran offered, looking over at the woman with the scar.</p><p>The way this woman had been eyeing him made Mando uncomfortable. It was like she was trying to gauge him on something.</p><p>"Aren't you worried about getting caught in there a second time?" he asked her dryly.</p><p>She gave him an incredulous look. "Why? I would just leave again."</p><p>Ran barked a laugh. "Apparently, Neera comes back on occasion for a relaxing weekend."</p><p>She shrugged. "It's quiet in there."</p><p>Mando sighed. If there was one consolation, it was that the job was dangerous enough to keep them from turning on him until they were safely back at the ship. And they were definitely going to turn on him.</p><p>------------<br/>
His ship felt way too crowded with this crew on board.</p><p><span>The Devaronian was poking around Mando's stuff just to stir up confrontation, Mayfeld using it as an excuse to try and find chinks in the armor, and Xi'an just enjoying the show of them trying and failing to get a rise out of him. And then the woman with the scar—he was blanking on her name—had simply disengaged,</span> <span>taking a bedroll she had brought</span><span> to rest her head against the wall and close her eyes. </span></p><p>It was the usual posturing, the searching for the security of finding their place in the group hierarchy. All of this was as expected. Though in the back of his mind was the nagging question of what kind of person decides to take a nap around people like these.</p><p>All of this would have been manageable if it wasn't for the kid, tucked in the room just a thin door away.</p><p>"Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian," Burg quipped, still eyeing Mando, sizing him up.</p><p>"Well, apparently, they're the greatest warriors in the galaxy," Mayfeld shrugged. "So they say."</p><p>"Then why are they all dead," Burg barked.</p><p>They all laughed...all of them except for the one woman. She stayed resting against the wall, eyes closed, though Mando got the impression she wasn't actually sleeping, just preferring to slip into the background.</p><p>"He never takes off the helmet?" Mayfeld asked Xi'an.</p><p>There was an amused shake of her head. "'This is the way,'" she mimicked in a mocking tone.</p><p>"Huh," Mayfeld turned to consider him again. "I wonder what you look like under there. Maybe he's a Gungan. Is that why yousa don't want to show your face," he laughed.</p><p>He turned to Xi'an again. "You ever seen his face?"</p><p>She gasped. "A lady never tells."</p><p>For all her emotional instability, at least she was discrete—or she just felt the others were too beneath her to be worth sharing anything with them.</p><p>"Aw. come on, Mando, we all got to trust each other here. You gotta show us something," Mayfeld pressed. Mando could feel the Devaronian slipping up to his side.</p><p>"Come on. Just lift your helmet up," Mayfeld urged. "Come on. Let us all see your eyes."</p><p>"I'll do it," the Devaronian finally decided.</p><p>Mando's hand flew up to knock the Devaronian away before he could go for the helmet.</p><p>The beast of a man went flying backward, accidentally opening the backroom door on his way down.</p><p>The Child stared back at them, giving a little innocent coo at the sight of them all.</p><p>"Whoa, What is that?" Mayfield said, standing up to reach for the kid.</p><p>Mando tensed. This was bad. They were all staring at the kid. Even the woman with the scar had woken up for this. She looked at the kid, then turned to eye Mando again. It was as if she was coming to some sort of decision about him. Mando had no idea what that decision might be.</p><p>Then the ship suddenly jumped out of hyperdrive, the violent maneuvering sending them all flying.</p><p>Mando saw Mayfeld stumbling, losing his grip on the kid. His stomach dropped when he saw the kid fall. He tried to lunge for him but was too late. Luckily a blanket had fallen to the floor to soften the impact. Moving quickly, Mando picked him off the blanket and bundled him up, stowing him back in the room.</p><p>Thankfully the sight of the prison ship seemed to distract the rest of the crew from the kid. Mando snuck in one or two comforting words, then shut the door behind him.</p><p>--------------------<br/>
The door to the control room finally opened.</p><p>"Shit."</p><p>The soft curse came from beside him. The woman with the scar had muttered it under her breath when the door opened, quiet enough that the others couldn't hear her.</p><p>There was a man inside. More like a boy, nervous, hand shaking as he held a blaster at them.</p><p>"Stop!" the young prison guard warned. "Just stop right there. You—, You put down the blasters right there," he stammered.</p><p>"There were only supposed to be droids on this ship," Mando pointed out angrily. The woman with the scar was still standing next to him, equally tense.</p><p>Mayfeld just shrugged, daring Mando to do something about it.</p><p>Then the guard pulled out a tracking beacon, holding it up like a nervous threat.</p><p>Shit, Mando cursed. "Easy... No one has to get hurt here; just calm down," he said gently.</p><p>The guard nervously shoved the tracking beacon into the air again.</p><p>Mando held up a warning hand. "Hey," he said calmly. "Listen to me. Hey, hey, hey, listen to me, okay." When the guard's eyes finally darted over to him, he made a point of putting his own blaster down. "Look, put it down. Put it down. What's your name?"</p><p>Mando could feel the woman next to him slip back when she saw he was handling it. Somehow she managed to get started on the control panels without alarming the guard—while also happening to slip behind Mayfeld.</p><p>"Da—, it's Davan," the guard stuttered.</p><p>"Davan," Mando took care to repeat his name. "We're not here for you. We're here for a prisoner. If you let us go about your job, you can walk away with your life," Mando promised him.</p><p>"No he won't," Mayfeld protested, blaster suddenly raised.</p><p>The argument started, blasters raised, when Xi'an threw a dagger into the guard's chest, the body slumping to the ground.</p><p>They all stared at it for a beat, Mando letting out a tired sigh.</p><p>The tracking beacon was left strewn on the floor, lights now flashing violently.</p><p>Mayfeld raised an eyebrow. "Was that thing blinking before?" he asked anxiously.</p><p>The droid's voice came through their comms. "Zero to Mayfeld. You now have twenty minutes."</p><p>Mayfeld cursed. "Let's go. Let's go!" he shouted as he waved them all to get to the cell and finish the job.</p><p>The woman with the scar stayed where she was. "I think I'll stay and hole up here instead."</p><p>Mayfeld rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Do what you'd like; we don't need you anymore," he said.</p><p>Then the rest of them raced to the cell to finish the job.</p><p>-------<br/>
Mando realized his mistake when the cell door opened to reveal Qin.</p><p>Before Mando could even react, the others had pushed him into the cell and slammed the door behind him.</p><p>So the trap had come sooner than he had thought.</p><p>Qin being there completely changed things. Mando had no idea how he had found his way here from the max security prison he was supposed to be in.</p><p>But he had no time to think about that now. The clock was ticking, and he needed to get back to the ship, and to the Child, before they were blown to hell by some New Republic enforcers.</p><p>He could hear mechanical steps coming down the hallway. Droid guards. That was his one chance to get out of here.</p><p>He waited patiently as the droid guards got closer to his cell door.</p><p>The droid was about to round the corner when there was a noise down the hall. Mando cursed when the droid suddenly stopped and turned the other way.</p><p>He couldn't see far enough, but there was the sound of a scuffle, followed by the firing of a blaster. Wary, he backed up slightly as soft footsteps approached.</p><p>A droid arm slipped through the gaps in the cell door, then dropped to the floor.</p><p>Mando stared at the severed droid arm, then looked up.</p><p>The woman with the scar was leaning against the door frame.</p><p>"So," she started, eyes drifting over the walls and floor of the cell, "Is <em>this</em> the way?" she asked sarcastically.</p><p>He didn't say anything but stayed where he was, watching her carefully.</p><p>She tapped the watch on her wrist. "Tick-tock," she reminded him.</p><p>Then she disappeared down the hall.</p><p>The minute she was gone, he scrambled for the droid's arm to grab the cell door key.</p><p>Door opened, he looked both ways down the hall: no sign of the woman.</p><p>He was running out of time. With one last glance down the hall, he hurried back to the control room.</p><p>-----------<br/>
The blinking transponder beacon was still lying on the floor of the control room. Mando bent down to pick it up, considering something, when he heard the Devaronian coming down the hall.</p><p>He instantly regretted trying to take the Devaronian alive.</p><p>The beast of a man only needed one yank on the grappling cable to send Mando crashing from his hiding spot beyond the ceiling panels. Nothing would kill this man. And now Mando was just getting ragdolled across the room, a vague sense of regret for not having just gone straight back to his ship as the Devaronian dragged his head across the control panel.</p><p>Burg grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the counter.</p><p>"Let's see your face, Mandalorian," he growled, strangling Mando with one hand, prying at the edge of his helmet with the other. Mando was barely managing to hold him off with one hand, the other hand struggling to find something, anything for a weapon.</p><p>There was a sharp whistle to his left.</p><p>Mando managed to glance over to see the woman with the scar again, standing just outside the door and leaning casually against the wall.</p><p>He watched as she gestured her head to something to his side.</p><p>His eyes shot over to spot an emergency fire ax just beyond the edge of the counter. That would do. Grabbing it, he ripped it from its holster, bashing it against the side of the Devaronian's thick skull. It gave him just enough space to throw the man towards the door. A quick flick of his knife activated the door switch, slamming the door shut on the man.</p><p>He barely had a moment to catch his breath when the heavy door started to lift, held up by the shoulders of the giant.</p><p>The Devaronian gave Mando a look of predatory triumph, which quickly turned to confusion when the woman used the opportunity to slip through the hoisted door and into the room.</p><p>Taking advantage of the distraction, Mando slammed the button on the panel to close the second set of doors on the man, finally crushing him.</p><p>He stood there, still catching his breath, while the woman walked past him to the control panel.</p><p>Completely ignoring him, she pulled her satchel to her front and reached inside. He couldn't see what else was in there, but she pulled out a small box, opening it to reveal some delicate-looking electronics that she plugged into the ship's computer. A few scrolling numbers whirled past, and he got the impression she was erasing files.</p><p>Finished, she carefully put the tools away and stashed them back in the bag. Mando watched as she placed a hand on her hip and stared at the wiped screen for a moment as if still pondering something.</p><p>Squinting at the board, she grabbed a nearby thermos of tea and poured the hot liquid all over the panel in a series of sparks and short-circuiting, then immediately followed that by taking the butt of the thermos and smashing into the panel a few extra times for good measure.</p><p>Then she ripped the unit out of the panel to smash it against the ground, grinding it a few times with the heel of her boot to completely destroy the casing.</p><p>She cocked her head at the mess of the electronics on the floor as if pondering again if that was enough.</p><p>Mando couldn't help but watch her while she went about her task.</p><p>"I think you might have missed a spot," he quipped, immediately taking a break to wince from the pain in his side.</p><p>She looked up like she just then remembered he was there. Holding eye contact the entire time, she poured the remaining tea over the electronics for extra emphasis.</p><p>Then she winked at him.</p><p>Reaching over to the still functioning side of the panel, she pressed a few buttons, another door sliding open behind her.</p><p>Heading towards the open door, she glanced down at the flashing tracking beacon on her way out.</p><p>She paused to finally say something. "I'm taking the only other ship on this station...and that ride is full," she told him, almost as an aside. "So I suggest you hurry up and get back to your ship and that strange little foundling of yours," she suggested.</p><p>She seemed to remember one more thing. "Oh, and please stop blocking off Corridor B; it's making my life a lot more difficult," she added before turning to walk out.</p><p>Her motivations were still a total question mark to him. He tried to think of something to say before she slipped away again.</p><p>"Thought you liked to stay for the weekend," he called out after her.</p><p>She gave him that incredulous look again. "It's a prison. I'm not insane."</p><p><em>Right</em>, he thought with a sigh.</p><p>"Can you at least recommend a shortcut back to the ship," he asked.</p><p>She shook her head. "No idea, never been here before."</p><p>She glanced at the monitor before she left. Each screen showed a different crew member anxiously working their way down the flashing red and black emergency lights of the prison corridors.</p><p>She sucked on her teeth. "Looks like you're about to have some fun," she noted. "...<em>really</em> sorry to miss the show. They seemed like a bunch of assholes."</p><p>
  <span>Then she turned to go, giving one regretful sigh when she passed the body of the young guard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she disappeared through the door, she shook her head. “Can’t believe you used to fuck that woman,” she muttered on her way out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled out his neck and sighed. He really didn’t need flak for that right now. Then he took off down the hall to get back to the ship. </span>
</p><p>Getting through them all and back to the ship made for a long day. He could only relax once he saw the New Republic ships taking out Ran's base in his rearview mirror. Finally taking the kid down for a nap, he found himself sitting on the edge of the cot with him, surveying his once again empty ship.</p><p>He was completely spent. The addition of group drama on top of a job just left him wiped out. Next to him, the kid gave a big yawn. Maybe they both could use the nap.</p><p>He gave in and went to lie down next to the kid, but it wasn't quite comfortable enough; the bed felt too hard and was missing something. He sat back up and looked around the empty ship, spotting the blanket that had been left strewn on the floor. Dragging himself up, he grabbed the blanket, tucking it under them both for a little extra comfort.</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mando did not like this new planet.</p><p>He kept guard while the Child sat waiting for food at their table.</p><p>The waitress finally came by to drop off a bowl of soup. The bowl was obviously too big for such a little kid, but that was fine; the waitress probably didn't know any better.</p><p>Mando scanned the room as the kid peered into the bowl with his little 'patoo' sound.</p><p>There was nothing specifically bad about this place. But multiple times in the last few days, Mando had felt like they were being watched. This cantina was filled with the typical smattering of shifty characters of the Outer Rim. Strangers would often glance their way, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for a Mandalorian.</p><p>In between sips, the kid discovered that the spoon made a particularly loud sound when whacked against the side of the bowl. Now he had forgotten the food entirely, instead giving the spoon a solid thwack against the side of the bowl.</p><p>They were overdue for some bounty hunter to find them. There was no way interest in the kid had dropped off.</p><p>Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The soup was starting to splash all over the table.</p><p>Mando wedged a hand between the spoon and the bowl, never taking his eyes off the room.</p><p>"Eat," he said firmly.</p><p>A particularly mean-looking Trandoshan leaned against the bar. Mando immediately honed in on him. He had the look. It wasn't how he dressed, the weapons, or how he stood...just a certain gleam in his eye; the look of excitement at the prize.</p><p>The kid had moved to banging the spoon against the table instead. It didn't take long for the spoon to slip through the kid's soup-covered hands and go hurtling to the ground. That upset him. He gave his little frustrated breaths while he strained for the spoon from his place in the makeshift high-chair.</p><p>Mando continued eyeing the Trandoshan. "That's what you get for playing with it," he said simply...until he remembered that the kid had 'other' ways of getting the spoon.</p><p>He had to scramble to grab the spoon just as it started levitating off the floor, the feeling of the kid's pull on the spoon mildly unnerving but also fascinating.</p><p>He sat back up, tucked the spoon firmly in his belt and out of the kid's reach, and told the kid he would have to drink from the bowl now.</p><p>When he looked back up, the Trandoshan was gone.</p><p>Mando whipped his head around, searching for any sign of him. He finally glimpsed the man's back slipping through a back door just before a slighter figure stepped in behind him, blocking Mando's view.</p><p>Great, now he was going to have to worry about that all day.</p><p>To his side, the kid attempted lifting the bowl to his mouth, promptly dumping the remaining contents all over the front of his clothes.</p><p>The kid looked down his shirt, then up at Mando, perplexed how he was supposed to eat his soup now.</p><p>--------------------<br/>The kid toddled ahead on the way to the ship, Mando glancing at the alleyways stretching from the shipyard. He should probably carry the kid to keep him closer, but he wanted both hands free in case of attack—plus, the kid would be a terror later if he didn't get to stretch his legs at least a little bit.</p><p>The Trandoshan could be alone, but they were known to hunt in groups. Mando figured he could take four if necessary but would rather grab his rifle first to search him out and get the upper-hand.</p><p>...Though he would need to wash the kid's clothes first, then he could go out. Probably feed the kid a little more since he never really finished his meal. He should feed him first since the kid was likely to just spill on anything freshly washed. Of course, he still needed to eat himself, which would mean putting the kid to sleep before he went out. Then he could look for any sign of the Trandoshan. So make more food for the kid, wash up his clothes—he would need something else to wear while they dried—put his rifle away, get some food, then grab the kid to scope out their surroundings.</p><p>
  <em>Wait, no…</em>
</p><p>He gave a quick shake of his head to clear out some of the cobwebs. He sighed. He really needed more sleep.</p><p>When he looked back up, he froze. There was a small light flashing on the ground in front of the ship. It blinked faster as the kid toddled closer.</p><p>Din put a hand out to stop him, the kid looking up at him in surprise.</p><p>Looking around, he bent to pick up the kid, his blaster already in his hand as he cautiously stepped closer.</p><p>It was a tracking fob...but something else too, something attached to it. He looked around, then stepped closer, leaning in to get a better look.</p><p>It was a hand, still clutching the fob after it had been severed at the wrist.</p><p>A Trandoshan hand.</p><p>That was...disconcerting.</p><p>-------<br/>He lay in wait the next night, tucked behind some storage containers in the shipyard so he could catch anyone leaving little gifts again. He didn't feel comfortable leaving the kid alone, so instead, he sat on a blanket behind him.</p><p>It was not going well.</p><p>Din turned around when he heard the kid banging on something. Somehow he had managed to find the spoon and bring it with him. The kid was focused on whacking it against the boxes, adding his own "Mwap!" sound on top of each hit.</p><p>Din reached out to stop the spoon.</p><p>"No," he said. "Not playtime," he added patiently, taking the spoon away for the second time.</p><p>He turned around to refocus on the shipyard when the kid just restarted with his hands instead, adding a louder "Mwap! Mwap! Mwap!" noise to make up for the lack of the spoon.</p><p>"Hey," Din started, "Hey, we're going to play a game, okay?" he said, gently holding back the kid's hands. "We're going to see how quiet we can be so we can surprise someone, okay?"</p><p>That actually worked. The kid screwed his mouth closed tight under his big cheeks, eyes bright as he eagerly watched Din for the next part of the game. Seeing he was quiet, Din turned back to watch the shipyard.</p><p>It was quiet except for an exhaust fan somewhere in the background. Equipment beeped as it backed up a few docks away. Somewhere in the distance was the sound of voices; Din strained to hear them. They were far away, and it was probably just local staff, but he wanted to hear what they were saying—</p><p>"—Mwap!"</p><p>Din jumped, the kid giggling at his response and loving this new game.</p><p>He sighed. Maybe this would work better when the kid was ready for a nap.</p><p>An hour or two later they came back, after a series of dramas trying to give the kid a bath. Apparently the word 'bath time' had become code that the kid should make a break for it. Din tested the water with one hand, while the other held onto the kid's coat while he tried to get away. Suddenly the coat went limp, Din looking up to see the kid, now naked, scampering away. <em>How the hell had he managed that?</em></p><p>Now the kid passed out on his lap, his little hand still lightly clutching some cookies that he had been determined to eat even as he nodded off. It was late, and Din knew even he couldn't last much longer before he would need some sleep as well.</p><p>The kid woke up before Mando even heard the noise.</p><p>There was the sound of someone casually whistling. It was becoming louder as someone strolled towards the ship. Din checked to see if the kid was going to act up again, but even he was just quietly listening.</p><p>Shifting back into the shadows between the containers, Din leaned out to see a figure walking closer while whistling a carefree tune. Three new tracking fobs swung from one hand.</p><p>The figure stopped to drop the fobs at the ship door, passing under a light.</p><p><em>You have got to be kidding me</em>, Mando cursed.</p><p>He stepped forward, blaster in one hand and baby in the other.</p><p>"Stop right there," he called out.</p><p>The woman with the scar froze when she heard him, her whistling turning to a wolf whistle of recognition when she saw him standing there with a blaster trained on her. She looked at the blaster, looked at the baby, then raised an eyebrow before putting up her hands, tracking fobs in one hand still blinking away as he stepped closer.</p><p>Of all the reactions he hoped to elicit when he trained his blaster on someone, curious amusement was not one of them.</p><p>The baby eating a cookie in his other hand probably did not help.</p><p>"Inside. Now," he gestured with the blaster.</p><p>She looked like she was trying to bite back a smile while acquiescing with some careful steps backward into the opening door of the ship.</p><p>Din kept his eyes on her while he set down the kid with his other hand. The Child, of course, immediately gave the woman a friendly wave, and she peered around Din to cheerily wave back.</p><p>"Hey," he snapped, trying to get her attention back to the blaster.</p><p>She cleared her throat and went back to putting her hands up, trying to look properly intimidated.</p><p>"Are you going to tell me who you are?" he demanded.</p><p>She cocked her head at him. "I thought all Mandalorians preferred a little bit of mystery?"</p><p>"Nope," he said simply. "You killed the Trandoshan?"</p><p>"Yes," she said with a simple nod. </p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"You looked like you had a lot on your plate," she said, eyes shifting to the baby jacket still hanging from a makeshift clothesline, "And you seem a bit too popular for your own good," she added with a jiggle of the tracking fobs still in her hand.</p><p>"You've been following us," he accused her.</p><p>She shrugged. "Maybe we just run in the same circles. I see you around."</p><p>"Funny. I haven't seen you," he pointed out.</p><p>"Well, I do have more than one outfit," gesturing to her satchel as she gave it a shift on her back. "There are only so many Mandalorians left; not all of them have such shiny armor," she added, watching him intently as if that was supposed to mean something.</p><p>"Who are you? Why do you keep helping us?"</p><p>She sighed, looking a bit disappointed. "It would be so much more satisfying if you figured that one out on your own," she grumbled.</p><p>He thought on that for a moment, still holding his blaster on her while he tried to come up with something. He could figure this out.</p><p>"No?" she asked. "Nothing? Or can I go?"</p><p>Silence.</p><p>She took a single finger to push the tip of his blaster away. He just let it drop when it was clearly not helping anything.</p><p>He could feel her about to walk off again. He scrambled to think of something. </p><p>"...So are you going to keep leaving gifts at my door and then run off again?" he asked when she headed for the door. Somehow it ended up sounding like more of an opening or invitation than he had intended.</p><p>She squinted at him, looking perplexed and slightly amused.</p><p>"What do you want, a kiss?" she teased. When he didn't say anything, she took a step forward and shoved the three tracking fobs into his chest. "I have a feeling there are a lot more 'gifts' out there that need leaving on your doorstep," she countered as she left him to take the tracking fobs off her hands.</p><p>"Hey…," she added, turning back before going, "The next planet over is full of some ex-political prisoners. They are pretty good at running off any bounty hunters who try to come for them. Maybe, if you can convince them you're not there for them, they will let you hunker down there for a while."</p><p>"You left your bedroll here last time," he pointed out.</p><p>She looked over at the blanket. "Eh. I'll get it later."</p><p>He gave something between a scoff and a laugh in response. </p><p>Then she turned to go.</p><p>"You could at least tell me your name," he called out after her.</p><p>That stopped her. She frowned, seeming confused. "What— That's not a secret. They told you my name when we first met."</p><p>He stared blankly at her.</p><p>She narrowed her eyes at him. "You forgot my name, didn't you?"</p><p>He stared back at her again, then finally relented with a shrug.</p><p>She sighed. "Typical," she grumbled with a shake of her head, then turned again to leave.</p><p>He thought about it for a moment, then called out after her. "...were you a former prisoner from that planet?" he hazarded a guess.</p><p>"No!" she said, exasperated. "This is really not that hard," she muttered to herself as she walked away.</p><p>On her way out, her satchel awkwardly hit the side of the door with a reverberating clang.</p><p>When she had gone, he looked down at the kid. "Do you remember her name?"</p><p>The kid looked up at him. "Eh?" was his only response.</p><p>Din sighed and went to stash the little tracking fobs gifts into a drawer.</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mando did not like these other men. </p><p>Axe Woves from Bo-Katan’s crew had come to find him. He said they needed his help with a job, said they had heard about Gideon’s interest in the kid, and this might lead to more information for all of them. </p><p>He wanted to trust these Mandalorians—needed to really—even if they didn’t technically follow the way. As much as it pained him to admit it, he was going to need help. </p><p>These other men, though...they weren't even close to Mandalorians. All ‘part of the crew’ Axe had assured him. They just felt like your typical hired guns, eyes constantly glancing around the backwater cantina, only stopping to size you up. </p><p>The Child anxiously gazed at them from the lip of the satchel at Mando’s side. He had cooed a few times at Axe when he had first recognized him, but then Axe had responded by putting his helmet back on for the remainder of their conversation. Maybe it was his attempt at respect. </p><p>“It should only take a few days,” Axe explained, “We could use the extra trigger. If everything goes to plan, we’ll all know more about Gideon’s plans.”</p><p>Just then there was a commotion at the cantina door. Two drunk women stumbled in, hanging off of each other and laughing loudly enough to interrupt everyone’s conversations. They harassed the bartender for a bit, then one of them caught sight of the shiny armor at their table, pulling the other woman to turn and check it out. </p><p>Mando cursed. Oh, come on.</p><p>The louder friend pulled a woman with a scar over to their table. Her friend sucked up all of the attention in the room, coming around to drunkenly squint at them all while Mando’s new shadow stayed in the background. </p><p>“Two Mandalorians!” the louder woman exclaimed, words happily slurring. She eyed Axe. “Maybe you’re a little less uptight than your silver friend here.”</p><p>While the louder woman harassed Axe, Mando could feel the woman who’s name he could not remember sidle up to him. Her hand toyed with the edge of his shoulder pauldron while he tried to ignore her. </p><p>Now is not the time, lady. </p><p>She bent to whisper playfully in his ear.</p><p>The tone was clipped and clear and serious. “Don’t go with them,” was all she said. </p><p>He didn’t show a reaction. Axe pushed the louder woman away, and the two women finally relented when the bartender yelled at them to leave. They hollered something back at the man, one of them leaning over the bar to steal a bottle before he finally managed to shoe them both back out the door. </p><p>“As I was saying,” Axe started back up. “We have a ship; we can leave tonight.”</p><p>Mando glanced down at the kid who was looking back up at him. There was no reason for him to listen to this woman over other Mandalorians. Even if they did things half-way. He couldn’t think of any logical reason to do that. </p><p>-----------</p><p>He walked behind Axe to the shipyard, the kid floating in his pram one step behind. Two more of Axe’s crew had joined them, ending up at Mando’s sides. He didn’t like the feeling of being increasingly boxed in.</p><p>“I’ll need to get some supplies from my ship before we go,” Mando pointed out.</p><p>Axe just kept walking. “We have a full armory on the ship.” </p><p>“...and I need to drop off the Child with someone who can watch him,” Mando added.</p><p>“You can bring him; we’ll have someone to watch him there,” Axe assured him. </p><p>“I will come back as soon as I drop him off,” Mando insisted.</p><p>Axe made the tiniest glance at the man next to him. “He’ll be safer from Gideon with us,” he pressed.</p><p>“I have someone I trust here,” Mando lied, slowing his pace while his hand moved to his side. </p><p>Five more men had appeared from the ship bay ahead. </p><p>Axe finally stopped walking. He turned to Mando and sighed. “We have a plan. We won’t harm the kid; we just need to borrow him,” he relented. </p><p>One of the men put a hand on the pram...and was quickly knocked down with the electric shock of Mando’s rifle. A second man received a blaster shot to the chest before he could lay a hand on it. He felt a growing tightness in his gut, him and the kid pressed in by at least 10 men now. </p><p>Axe shook his head. “I would have preferred if you had come with us; we would have had more time to explain. We will do our best to bring your foundling back to you, but for now, we need him,” Axe explained. “For Mandalore,” he added...as if that rallying cry was any consolation. </p><p>Three more men came at him at once, now just going for him instead of the pram. The whole time, Mando did his best to keep one eye on the other Mandalorian who, for now, hung back. </p><p>Two of the men went down next when a cable lassoed around him, his arms lashed to his side. Axe had clearly had enough of watching the other men fail. </p><p>Anger twitched inside him. The whistling birds at his wrist lit up—when the ground dropped out from under him. A hard concrete floor slammed into him when he landed at the bottom of a storage well under the floor, the projectiles ricocheting against the walls now surrounding him. </p><p>Axe came over with two other men to peer over the side, releasing whatever button he had pressed to open the floor. </p><p>“Keep him here until I’m back,” Axe instructed the two men. “And if I hear about you dishonoring him by removing any of his armor or helmet, you will have a full faction of Mandalorians to deal with.”</p><p>With that, Axe left, the two other men slamming a grate down on top of Mando’s new cell. </p><p>The two men stared down at him. His arms were still lashed to his sides, and he looked for something, anything on these sheer walls to hook and unravel the cable. </p><p>One of the men casually looked down at where Mando paced like a caged animal, his growing rage clear each time he stalked across the floor. </p><p>The man glanced at a pipe emptying out from the side of the wall.  </p><p>“We should kill him,” he concluded.</p><p>The other one squinted for a minute, thinking about that. “Axe won’t pay us the rest if this one’s dead when he gets back…might be pissed enough to kill us.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, this one definitely will,” the first pointed out, nodding towards Mando, who had stopped and was now staring up at them with a steady glare. “Axe clearly didn’t care how many of us this one took out. You want to deal with an angry Mandalorian now or later? Cuz this one’s definitely going to try and find a way out.”</p><p>His friend looked down at Mando, who was still just glaring back up at both of them. He considered for a moment, eyeing the pipe at the edge of the pit, then shrugged. “All right, we drown him.” He disappeared, the squeak of a metal valve being turned before the water started pumping from the pipe into Mando’s box. </p><p>Mando stared up at them as water poured in around him, cold hatred seeping through to every inch. The kid would be alone. The Mandalorians couldn’t be trusted. No one was taking care of him.</p><p>The two men just stared back at him, casually chewing on something as they watched the water fill in. He just waited. At least when the water rose, he might have a chance of latching on to something, something to catch an edge of the lasso to unwind it. Of course, he wasn’t exactly going to be able to swim with his arms tied to his sides. </p><p>The water soon reached up to his neck; he had to tilt his head back to keep the helmet edge above water until he was left holding his breath. Water crested over his helmet, fogging his vision and hearing and muffling anything from the outside. </p><p>When he had held his breath long enough, he purposefully sank down, pushing himself off the bottom to get back to the surface. But once there, he had nothing to hold onto, no way to tread water. He got a quick breath before sinking back down. </p><p>Maybe he could hook something onto the pipe. He launched to the surface again. The pipe was too far. He’d have to wait for the water to rise. </p><p>He pushed off again, the pipe hitting his shoulder, but he couldn’t get hands on it. One more quick breath. As he sank back down, he could see one man, distorted through water, turn to look at something behind him, followed by the second man. They were talking to someone. </p><p>He hit the bottom, immediately launching back to the surface. </p><p>Too short of a breath that time. He needed to find something, anything to grab onto to keep himself at the surface for a longer breath. </p><p>He rose back up; the water was almost at the grate now. He couldn’t grab it. Instead, he tried to press a foot against the wall, balancing to hook the other one on the grate to keep his body at the surface.  </p><p>There were glimpses of sound, breaks in the muffled echoes when his head occasionally broke the surface. He heard the men talking to someone, obvious annoyance in their voices. </p><p>“Not interested—,” the water pushed back over him, “—scram.”</p><p>His foot slipped, sending him falling back down, accidentally choking on some water this time as he sank back to the bottom.</p><p>He had to restrain the urge to cough, pushing off the bottom again to reach the surface. When he reached air this time, he was too busy coughing to even take a good breath. </p><p>There was the briefest sound of a commotion before he sank under the surface again, shouting, and the flashing of a blaster. </p><p>He felt his lungs starting to burn as he drifted down this time. His feet hit the bottom, and he gave a weak push to the surface. Had to make it, had to get to the kid. Not leaving him all on his own. </p><p>In a determined burst of effort, he slammed one foot against the wall to keep him at the surface. Still, he barely got a breath, falling back under, kicking to try and keep himself at the surface. But the water level was too close to grate now; there was barely enough room to fit his helmet into the pocket of air. </p><p>It wasn’t a big enough breath; it wasn’t enough. His lungs felt like they were going to burst. </p><p>He wasn’t sure he could make it back down to launch off the bottom again; he had to stay at the surface, find something. He started to drop under the surface again, trying to kick back up, but each kick gave less...was more confused. </p><p>Then something was pulling at him, dragging his weight back up. A hand, gripping the fabric at his shoulder. He broke through to the air, sucking in a breath the minute air reached the lip of his helmet. </p><p>He could hear someone cursing in between the water lapping at his hearing. It was a woman’s voice. He took one guess who it was. </p><p>Water got in with the next inhale; there wasn’t enough room under the grate to get a clear breath. </p><p>“Hold on,” she urged him, voice tinged with worry. </p><p>She was reaching for something, the latch of the grate. Hand outstretched, it was too far away. There was no way for her to hold him up and reach it at the same time. </p><p>The next breath he sucked in was edged with water. He was coughing more than breathing at this point.  </p><p>They were running out of room beneath the grate. “Dammit!” she gave a frustrated cry as she was losing him beneath the surface.</p><p>Her hand reached out to the latch again, straining there for a second. This time it started to move on its own, rusty latch screeching as it finally lifted. </p><p>She immediately hoisted the grate away, finally grabbing him with both hands to pull him out of the water and back into clear air. </p><p>“Why are you so heavy?” she muttered, straining to pull him over the edge until he lay gasping on the floor. </p><p>“They have the Child,” he coughed out. </p><p>“I know,” she said, still trying to catch her breath. “I saw the empty pram.” </p><p>“You should have gone after him,” he chided her between ragged breaths.  </p><p>She raised an eyebrow to where he lay on the floor, still coughing. “Too bad,” she countered.</p><p>Then she went for the lasso, unwinding it from him and helping him sit up as he tried to breathe.</p><p>“Come on,” she urged, “They’re not too far ahead.”</p><p>He staggered up while she grabbed another blaster from one of the downed men. </p><p>“You moved the grate with your mind,” he pointed out as she tossed him his rifle, a touch of excitement in his voice. </p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said dismissively, checking her own weapon as they started to the door. </p><p>“You moved it; I saw you,” he insisted. </p><p>“Nope,” she said simply.</p><p>“You’re one of the sorcerers. The Jedi,” he said as he ran beside her, a bit of brightness slipping in between the anger and worry. “That’s what you wanted me to figure out.”  </p><p>“No, that’s not…” she started. “I mean, yes, sort of, but that wasn’t…” she let out an exasperated sigh.</p><p>“Seriously, not that hard to figure out,” she muttered as they ran after Axe and the Child.</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When they rounded the corner, they came under fire immediately. Two of Axe's men must have hung back to hold them off.</p><p>She had slipped in behind him when he took cover against the wall, staying glued to his side every time he moved forward. He was a bit surprised that she was hanging back, then he realized his armor was probably the smartest cover around.</p><p>He felt her turn before he even heard someone behind them.</p><p>She was covering the rear, her bulky satchel held up in front of her like some kind of shield. Which was...weird.</p><p>Both of the men in front of him had finally dropped when he heard her cry out. She immediately responded by helping herself to a charge from his belt and chucking it in frustration at the men behind them.</p><p>"Are you hit?" he yelled back at her, repeating it when she didn't answer. "Are you hit?"</p><p>"Yes!" she finally yelled back, impatient. "Stop asking me that. It's fine."</p><p>He let out a pursed sigh. <em>Fine, whatever</em>, then turned back to look ahead.</p><p>He saw Axe then. And the kid. The Child was in Axe's hands, big eyes looking back at them as Axe took off with his jetpack.</p><p>Mando immediately took off after them, bolting into the air.</p><p>He couldn't do anything, though. Any effort to take down Axe risked the kid falling as well.</p><p>Axe clearly knew this. He stalled mid-air to turn and face him.</p><p>"We both know you're not going to take me out as long as I have the kid. Don't make this harder than it needs to be," Axe called over to him.</p><p>He was right. If he could just get Axe to drop the kid, he could catch him; he was sure of that. But the other Mandalorian had a firm grip on the kid's coat, keeping him close while the kid kept trying to squirm away to get back to him.</p><p>He just needed something, anything to get the kid out of Axe's hands.</p><p>"Hey, kid," he called out. "Bath time."</p><p>The kid perked up to look at him, looked down, then back at him...then gave some kind of artful wiggle to slip right out of his coat and go plummeting from Axe's hands.</p><p>With a quick swoop, Mando caught him, then turned and immediately fired at the controller to Axe's jetpack.</p><p>The man sputtered for a bit, then dropped, careening to the ground with occasional bursts of the jetpack as he struggled for any kind of control to reduce the impending impact.</p><p>Axe hit the ground hard as Mando landed on his feet not far from him. The man was trying in vain to pull himself off the ground with a groan, taking off his helmet to spit out blood from where he had clearly bitten off part of his tongue.</p><p>Mando walked up to the other Mandalorian, the kid in one hand, swinging around his rifle with the other.</p><p>"Close your eyes, kid," he said with a cold fury.</p><p>"Woah! Wait, wait, wait." The woman had caught up to them, sliding an attempt at a calming hand to his chest by his rifle arm. "Just take a breath first; you can still kill him in a minute."</p><p>"He tried to take the Child," he managed to get out, still struggling to repress the rage.</p><p>"And you have him back, see?" she pointed out. "He wasn't going to hurt the kid," she assured him. "He just had a shitty, shitty plan," she said, turning to Axe with a pointed glare.</p><p>She turned back to him. "No need to kill another Mandalorian,” she cautioned. Her voice dropped to talk to him alone. "You already have enough bounties after you, but at least they're barely competent. Do you really need a faction of Mandalorians pissed at you for killing their brother?"</p><p>He forced himself to breath through his nose, hand relaxing slightly from where he trained the rifle on the man.</p><p>Seeing him give an inch, she cautiously walked backward, stayinig between them to stand next to Axe.</p><p>At first, Axe squinted at her incredulously, going back to cautiously eyeing Mando while she leaned in to say something out of earshot. Axe’s face went from tense to confused, glancing at her briefly with a look of realization dawning. Then he was just listening as she finished whatever she was saying.</p><p>She stepped away, making sure to stay between them. "You've realized this was a bad plan and are not going to try that again, right?"</p><p>Axe eyed them both, then gave a reluctant nod.</p><p>She cocked her head at the bundle of fabric still in Axe's hand. "Give him back the kid's coat, get your shit together, and get off-planet before he completely loses it."</p><p>When Axe reluctantly stepped up to hand over the coat, Mando responded by promptly headbutting the man.</p><p>"Wear your helmet," he spat as Axe staggered back with blood gushing from a broken nose.</p><p>The woman looked like she had to bite back a laugh. "Okay, yup, he deserved that," she admitted, putting a hand on his arm to try and steer him away. He could feel himself still shaking in anger.</p><p>"C'mon. Hey, look, I've been shot, see? I need your help with this horrible injury," she pointed out, blatantly trying to distract him.</p><p>He glanced at it, still seething. "You're fine," he muttered.</p><p>"I dunno...I could bleed out any moment," she quipped, then saw the blood on her own hand from his arm. "...Or one of us could. Let's at least go get some clothes on your kid; he looks cold."</p><p>Mando seemed to remember the kid who was now safely back in his arms, tucking the jacket over him while she steered them both back to the ship.</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was still pissed when they got back to the ship.</p><p>He threw a short glance at the woman behind him, tossing his cauterizer on the table but otherwise focused on tucking the kid back into the safety of the pram.</p><p>The kid looked back at him with a concerned glance at them both, then stretched up a hand to offer his help.</p><p>“No,” Din assured him, quickly pushing his hand back down. “We’re fine.” The last thing he needed was the kid showing off what he could do. Looking around for some kind of distraction, he handed the kid the silver ball, then turned to face the woman.</p><p>She was twisting to her side to try and glimpse the injury. It was an awkward angle; she must have realized she would never be able to properly reach it on her own. He looked over at her again. It was only a glancing shot, but still rough.</p><p>Ripping a MedPac from the wall, he dropped into a chair, yanking out bandages to throw them down onto the table. The squishing sound his still soaked clothes made wasn’t helping his mood. He noticed a streak of blood on the MedPac. ...And he had forgotten he was bleeding.</p><p>She had grabbed the cauterizer he had left on the table when she stepped towards him.</p><p>He blocked her with his knee.</p><p>“That’s not…” he protested. “I’ll do it myself.”</p><p>A spark of pain in his leg made him immediately yank it away.</p><p>He looked down to see her pulling back the cauterizer from where she had just zapped him in the knee.</p><p>“Don’t be a pain in the ass,” she scolded him, stepping in again to reach the gash on his upper arm. “This is easier.”</p><p>He grumbled something but let her do it anyway. Flashlight tucked in her mouth, she began examining the line between fabric and wound, standing over his leg in the process. It was not an altogether unpleasant experience.</p><p>The first zap made him wince before he could stop himself.</p><p>She grinned from behind the flashlight still held in her mouth. “Would it help distract from the pain if I just got in your lap?”</p><p>He sighed. “...can’t tell if you’re joking.”</p><p>Her voice was still muffled through the flashlight while she studied the cut. “Just curious to see if I would get a ‘rise’ out of you,” she said with a wink.</p><p>The zaps of the cauterizer were lighter after that. He stole a glance at her while she worked.</p><p>“You’re a Jedi. That’s why you’re following us,” he tried again.</p><p>She sighed. “That’s still not what I wanted you to figure out,” she lamented. “And why would a Jedi be following you?”</p><p>He didn’t say anything to that.</p><p>She eyed him and his lack of response, then went back to the wound. “You going to tell me why they wanted the kid? Doesn’t fit with whoever was putting out the fobs.”</p><p>“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve worked with them before, and they didn’t try anything then.”</p><p>“Something new then,” she guessed.</p><p>He hesitated, wondering how much to share. “Axe, the other Mandalorian, said they just learned who is looking for us, the person putting out the fobs.”</p><p>“And who is that?” she asked, shifting to try and eye his wound from a new angle.</p><p>He hesitated again. “...Moff Gideon.”</p><p>That name made her head shoot up.</p><p>“Shit,” she admitted, impressed.</p><p>“You know him?”</p><p>“I know the reputation,” she admitted. “Why? And why would that make them want the kid?”</p><p>He shrugged. “Gideon wants the kid; maybe they want something from Gideon.”</p><p>That seemed to make her think for a moment, but she didn’t say anything.</p><p>He glanced at her again. “What did you say to him...to Axe?”</p><p>A crooked grin spread on her face. “I told him my name.”</p><p>He sighed. This again.</p><p>“...And reminded him of the consequences of trying something like that again,” she added, more serious this time.</p><p>“Which are?” he asked.</p><p>She hesitated, looking like she was choosing her words carefully. “That he won’t have any friends if he keeps pissing off his own kind.”</p><p>“That’s vague,” he complained.</p><p>There was that little smile again. Then she finished closing up the gash, blew on it lightly just to annoy him, and then slapped on a bandage.</p><p>“Tell you what,” she started. “I’ll tell you what I told him <em>and</em> why I keep hanging around...if you can remember my name.”</p><p>With that little challenge, she handed him the cauterizer and turned to pull up another chair, sitting backward in it and hitching up her shirt. The singe of the blaster hit stretched from the side of her ribs to her back, spots of blood still welling up.</p><p>He took in the rest as well. There were knicks and scars from too many past skirmishes, and he could see the edge of an old Imperial prison tattoo peeking through a sleeve.</p><p>He took in the hints to her background while he changed the tip of the cauterizer. There was that other option he had been considering, but it had felt like too sensitive of a topic to bring up.</p><p>He pulled up his chair and took a bandage to wipe the wound. “You fight like a Mandalorian,” he finally offered.</p><p>That little conclusion seemed to make her happy. He could tell she was hiding an elated look into the back of the chair.</p><p>“Took you long enough,” she muttered.</p><p>“What happened to your helmet,” he asked as he bent to start at the wound.</p><p>“It’s in my bag,” she replied cheekily.</p><p>“You know that’s not what I meant. Are you…” he wasn’t sure what terms to even use for this, “like them?”</p><p>“I’ve never put it back on again if that’s what you’re asking,” she answered brusquely. “So, no, I’m not like them.”</p><p>He was quiet for a bit, then gave a light zap to the first spot. “What happened,” he asked casually.</p><p>She shrugged. “I took it off...when I was young.”</p><p>“Why,” he asked to offer up his own distraction.</p><p>“Had a fight with my family; I wanted my father to see me as his daughter.”</p><p>“And how did that go,” he had to squint to see any more signs of bleeding.</p><p>She threw a hand to the scar on her cheek. “How do you think?”</p><p>“And why were you fighting with your family?” He wondered if that was too personal, but she seemed to like the excuse to talk about it.</p><p>“They saw me do that thing you didn’t just see me do.”</p><p>He paused. “So you’re admitting it now,” he pointed out.</p><p>“You saw what you saw.“</p><p>“Then you are a Jedi.” He intended it to sound like a triumphant conclusion, but it trailed off into more of a question. He was confused. She didn’t exactly look like the kid.</p><p>She sighed. “I’m not a Jedi. Just a few of the same tricks, or natural ability, sensitivity, whatever they call it. It’s not that rare. A Jedi is someone who spent their whole lives training. I didn’t do that,” she admitted.</p><p>“And your family kicked you out for that?”</p><p>“Eh, sort of. I chose to use it against the wrong person the first time I revealed it. It led to some drama.”</p><p>That sounded like a can of worms he didn’t want to get into right now. “What did you say to Axe?” he asked instead.</p><p>“He would recognize my family name,” she explained. “Or at least Bo-Katan would. If she were ever to take back Mandalore, she’d see me as having a right to challenge her. So, just a reminder to behave if they don’t want their leadership challenged the minute they take power. Based on previous history, she’s likely to be particularly wary of someone with these ‘skills.’”</p><p>He continued zapping the wound and didn’t say anything to that.</p><p>His lack of response seemed to tick away at her.</p><p>“You going to try and take my armor from me?” she finally asked.</p><p>He was quiet for a bit.</p><p>“Just don’t let me catch you putting the helmet back on, and I won’t send you off with Axe.”</p><p>That seemed enough for her to relax for now.</p><p>She turned back into the chair. “My name is Neera. Neera Vizsla,” she offered.</p><p>His only response was a monosyllabic grunt.</p><p>That made her roll her eyes, giving a dry laugh before settling back into the chair with a sigh.</p><p>When he followed the cauterizer by rubbing in a layer of bacta, she looked like she was about to fall asleep. He was used to people being on guard at first with him. The only other one who seemed comforted by his presence was the kid.</p><p>“Done,” he said.</p><p>When she sat up, she had to rub her eyes, face slightly flushed—like she was embarrassed to find she had accidentally fallen asleep during a massage.</p><p>Ignoring that, he crossed the room to put the tools away, turning to find a new place leaning against the counter. The kid was getting antsy in the pram in his place between them, starting to try and hop the ball from one hand to the other.</p><p>She made a half-hearted attempt to collect herself, attempting to brush a hand through her hair. “Why would a Jedi be seeking you out?” she asked again.</p><p>He looked over at the kid, who had just fumbled the ball, sending it bouncing to the floor. She really had no idea, he realized.</p><p>He shrugged. “Just rumors, tips.”</p><p>He tried to maintain the nonchalant, cool exterior, making an effort to ignore the kid who was now frantically reaching for the ball that had fallen to the ground. He should really find a way to just tie that thing to the roof of the pram so the kid could play with it without dropping it constantly.</p><p>“Do you know anything about them?” he asked, attempting to sound casual.</p><p>She shook her head. “I’ve been looking for them since I was kicked out. The Empire did a pretty good job of hunting down and eliminating anyone like that.”</p><p>“You’ve never found any Jedi? Or anyone else like you?” he asked again, trying to hide his disappointment.</p><p>“They’re gone,” she snapped, growing more impatient. “I’ve looked everywhere. For decades. If there are any out there, the last person they’re going to show themselves to is a Mandalorian. I’m telling you, they’re gone.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “Why do you want to know so much about the Jedi?” she demanded.</p><p>“No reason.” He didn’t want to tell her yet, wanted just a bit more information first. Plus, for the first time in months, he felt like he was a step ahead of someone else. He finally knew more about what was going on. He—</p><p>The kid floated the ball from the floor to the pram.</p><p>Neera’s eyes went wide for a minute, then narrowed, turning her head slowly to glare at Mando.</p><p>He sighed.</p><p>“How about I get you a drink?” he suggested.</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was, of course, sitting in front of the ship when he and the kid got back from town. The entire day had been taken up trying and failing to find a replacement part for the comms unit. Now he just wanted to sit down and relax after spending all day haggling with strangers.</p><p>He wasn't surprised to find her there. There was a growing sense in the back of his mind that she was always around, somewhere in the background until she decided to pop up.</p><p>He slowed to a stop in front of the cargo box where she sat waiting for them. She looked back up at him like she was mulling asking him something.</p><p>"...Can the kid come out to play?" she said.</p><p>All he gave her was a small grunt before continuing past her to open the ship.</p><p>He could hear her following them inside while he set the kid down.</p><p>"More toys for the kid," she said, holding up a mesh bag of brightly colored balls, "...and a drink for us." Her other hand pulled out a bottle and two glasses. "Repayment for the other night," she explained.</p><p>"You know I can't exactly join you for a drink," he pointed out.</p><p>Ignoring him, she went ahead and poured a finger of an amber liquid into each glass. "No, but you can have some once I'm gone; that way we'll only be off by a few hours." Giving the other glass a small chink, she took hers to go join the kid.</p><p>"You assume I even drink," he added as she walked past him. He wasn't sure why he was still giving her such a hard time.</p><p>That was met with a dubious look around the stark ship. "So you keep that bottle in your cabinet for all your other party guests?" she said with a raised eyebrow.</p><p>He didn't bother to respond to that.</p><p>"...you literally have one chair," she muttered under her breath before joining the kid on the floor.</p><p>He took a moment to move the glass to the counter, keeping it out of the way until the kid went to bed. Behind him, the little guy gave an excited squeal when she pulled out the new toys from behind her back, scrambling for one then the other when she dumped them all on the floor at once.</p><p>They immediately fell into whatever little sorcerer games they liked to play. He busied himself by getting back on the floor and pretending to work on the comms unit behind them, intermittently glancing over at the two of them.</p><p>The kid was giving his excited little breaths every time Neera attempted to float a ball over to him. It was usually an unsteady pass, only making it there half the time. Then the kid would take the ball, doing something amazing with it. She seemed perfectly happy to let the kid take over, resting her chin on her hands, a slightly bittersweet smile while she watched him play with way more skill.</p><p>Din made himself turn back to the loose wires hanging down from the dash above him. There was no reason to keep trying this; he already knew he just needed a new part. He toyed with the wires anyway.</p><p>Something hit his foot. He turned his head to see a ball rolling back from where it had just bounced off his boot. The kid was staring at him expectantly. Sighing, he pulled himself away from the futile repairs and grabbed the ball. He walked it over and firmly set it back down with the rest of the toys where it belonged. Instead of going back to the repairs, though, he pulled up a box to sit at the edge of their little circle.</p><p>The kid continued happily playing while they both sat there quietly. After a bit, she hesitantly glanced up at him.</p><p>"Why did you take him in?" she finally asked. It sounded like it had been on her mind for a while now.</p><p>He shifted on his seat. There wasn't really a suitable Mandaloiran response to that.</p><p>"Foundlings are part of the Creed," he said simply.</p><p>That just made her furrow her brow. "The Creed doesn't say you have to take in every stray you come across. It's still your choice to take them in."</p><p>He didn't really have a better answer to give her.</p><p>She rolled a ball back to the kid. "I have a guess as to why Bo wanted him," she changed the topic.</p><p>He cocked his head up, paying attention.</p><p>He was met with a crooked smile first. "I'll tell you if you tell me your real name," she teased.</p><p>He shot her a look.</p><p>She gave a soft laugh before relenting. "Bo wants one thing: to take back the rule of Mandalore. And to do that, she'll need the Darksaber."</p><p>That was something different. He crouched down to join them on the floor.</p><p>"What does some old sword have to do with him?" he asked, nodding to the kid.</p><p>She shrugged. "Gideon was a big player in the Purge. I'm guessing Gideon has it. And she figured she could bait him with a trade."</p><p>Din glanced over at the kid still happily rolling a ball on the floor. "How do you know this?" he asked.</p><p>She shrugged. "It's what I would do." She saw him turn to stare back at her. "I'm not going to..." she added.</p><p>"Mm-hmm," he replied dubiously. It was more teasing than anything else.</p><p>She was quiet for a moment, rolling a ball between her hands. When she did speak again, she sounded more sober. "I've just found a Mandalorian caring for a little Jedi," she pointed out. "I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you two together. You understand that, right?"</p><p>She asked it quietly but was looking at him with a pointed expression. He thought about what she'd said earlier, about what that must have felt like to be kicked out of your Clan for something like that. All he could do was just nod in response.</p><p>There was an awkward silence for a moment. She tapped her foot absentmindedly, then leaned back to glance around the room.</p><p>"Need some help with that comms unit?" she asked, nodding toward the tumble of wires still sticking out from under the dash.</p><p>"I've already tried. It needs a new inverter," he said.</p><p>"Oh, c'mon now, I just saw you trying to work on it. I bet we can get it going again." She held up a hand to wiggle her fingers at him. "I can do magic, remember?"</p><p>She was already on the floor and sliding under the dash before he could stop her. He knew the repairs were a lost cause, but he went over anyway, dropping another ball for the kid before getting on the floor next to her.</p><p>He found her intently studying the equipment.</p><p>"Nice setup," she admitted.</p><p>"...Thanks."</p><p>She pondered the mess of wires. "Hand me that gauge," she said.</p><p>He let her have a go at it for a few minutes, handing her whatever tools she asked for while occasionally glancing out to check on the kid. The little guy had waddled over to them and was bending his head down to see what they were up to. Din lifted his arm to let him come tuck in beside him.</p><p>Din turned back to see what she was onto now.</p><p>"I've already tried that," he reached out to stop her. "That's not going to work—"</p><p>She swatted his hand away. "It will work," she insisted. "Watch."</p><p>There was an unceremonious fizzle when she tried to turn it on again.</p><p>She drummed her fingers against her lips, thinking, apparently unaware that those same fingers were covered in grease.</p><p>"You—" he started, watching as she smeared a streak of grease across her face.</p><p>She rolled her eyes. "What."</p><p>Maybe it would be more entertaining to let it pass. "Nothing," he said instead.</p><p>She went back to attacking the same thing he had already tried a million times.</p><p>"Well, you seem like you've got this all figured out," he noted sarcastically.</p><p>He pulled himself out from under the dash to sit back up, waiting patiently for her to figure out that it wouldn't work. The kid came over to lean against him and watch with him. It was mildly entertaining to watch her still sprawled on the floor, light cursing occasionally coming from beneath the dash.</p><p>There was some more clanking.</p><p>Then a pause.</p><p>Followed by one more clanking sound.</p><p>Then she pulled herself out to sit up next to them.</p><p>She rubbed the back of her neck, avoiding his waiting look.</p><p>"...you might need a new inverter," she finally admitted.</p><p>"Uh-huh," he replied, picking up the kid to leave her with the mess she had made.</p><p>Brushing her hair back, she seemed to finally notice the smudge of grease crossing half her face.</p><p>-----------------<br/>
The kid was firmly passed out on top of a pile of his new toys. He had completely tuckered himself out by trying to roll the balls up and down the ship ramp for the last hour.</p><p>It was a nice night, though; it felt good to leave the door open to let some of the cooler night air into the normally stuffy ship.</p><p>Din sat leaning against the ship door frame, legs boxing in the kid to keep any of his toys from tumbling back down the ramp. Neera had done the same from the other side, leaning her head against the opposing door frame in between occasional sips of her drink.</p><p>"You still haven't really answered why you were helping us," he pointed out.</p><p>She looked at him, absentmindedly stealing a ball from the pile to pass it between her hands before rolling it over to him. She shrugged. "I miss fighting for Mandalorians."</p><p>He caught the ball and chewed on that for a bit. "You could have just joined the others, the ones like Bo and her crew. They wouldn't have cared about the helmet."</p><p>She gave a little awkward wince, reaching a hand back to fiddle with the door frame behind her. "Eh... they're not really a fan either," she admitted. "The person I used the powers against—my uncle—that was Bo's former leader. And she was fiercely loyal to him."</p><p>He looked at her, waiting.</p><p>"I, uh, may have been kicked out for using my skills to try and take the darksaber from him," she explained. "...so that's the last impression I left with Bo. They'll respect my right to challenge them, but they're not exactly going to welcome me with open arms."</p><p>He rolled the ball back to her. "All this for a sword."</p><p>She caught the ball, then shook her head, adamant. "It's not about the sword, not really. It just means that leadership can be won, but it can also be taken away. If people don't like how you're ruling, someone will challenge you," she explained. "It's like our form of democracy. I'm fine with someone else, someone like Bo, winning it, but someone has to be there to take it back if necessary. And there were some not so great things happening at the time."</p><p>She picked at a flake of rust on her armor and chucked it into the night air. "I just didn't realize the cost would be so high," she muttered. "Injury, death, embarrassment, sure. But not this. The Siege, the Purge, all of it...I had to watch from the sidelines. Not because I challenged someone, or because I had the skills of our 'enemy,' but because I took off a goddamn helmet. One simple rule and I'm not allowed to fight for them anymore."</p><p>
He hesitated to ask. "You've never put it back on?" he finally said.</p><p>
She looked at him for a minute. He hadn't intended it to sound accusatory. She bit her lip then slowly shook her head. "Always felt wrong," she admitted.</p><p>
She furrowed her brow slightly. "I told myself I would put it back on if there was ever an instance where I needed every ounce of beskar...some worthwhile fight," she added. "But it's never really come up." The last bit came out with an awkward laugh that just kind of trailed off.</p><p>
She rolled the ball back to him, then poured a little more from the bottle for both of them, his glass still untouched. She sipped on it, silent for a while.</p><p>She didn't seem to be expecting him to say anything, just wanted to say things out loud. There was no real consolation or solution he could give anyway. That was just the life they lived.</p><p>"My name is Din, by the way," he offered, trying to let it sound casual.</p><p>That got a half-smile out of her. Then she just gave an ambivalent grunt in response, lightly mocking his own earlier nonchalant response.</p><p>He gave something almost resembling a short laugh.</p><p>Between them, the kid had started making little puffing noises in his sleep.</p><p>"It's getting late," Din pointed out. "Do you have a home here, or do you just wander around showing up at people's doorsteps?"</p><p>She gave a small smile. "I have places I stay."</p><p>That was vague. She had still never taken back the bedroll she had left here. "...And do you need a place to stay tonight?" he pressed. </p><p>She eyed him carefully for a moment. "That's not what I'm here for," she made a point of clarifying.</p><p>He gave a vexed tilt of his head. "Not what I was implying," he pointed out defensively.</p><p>He couldn't see her face after that; she was turned away, face tucked in her arm. Finally, she pulled her face back out.</p><p>"...could be a nice bonus though, huh?" she added quietly.</p><p>And with that, she stood up, took a swig straight from the bottle before leaving it with him, and walked down the ramp.</p><p>The kid was still puffing away when he realized he was absentmindedly pulling at a dog-eared corner of the bottle label. With a grumbled curse, he forced himself to set the bottle back down and stop fidgeting with it. He put it away for later and bent down, trying to lift the kid without waking him.</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Additional in-between chapter, added 4/18/21</p>
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    <p>Din was coming back from his search for an inverter—empty-handed, again—when he spotted Neera through the door of a local cantina. She was sitting alone, squinting at a bottle in her hand. Probably pretending to be drunk for some dubious purpose or another.</p><p>The bottle dropped from her hand, spilling half of the alcohol all over the table.</p><p>No, she was actually drunk this time.</p><p>When she looked up to see him walking over to her, she fumbled over the bottle, attempting to straighten before greeting him with a wobbly smile.</p><p>"Hi," she managed.</p><p>He eyed the bowl of water and neat stack of rags on the table. "What are you doing?"</p><p>"I was in a bit of a... tuszzle," she said, then smiled at that, mildly amused at her own choice of words.</p><p>He cocked his helmet at her, waiting. "...a what?"</p><p>"A Tussle!" she shouted, as if his hearing had been the problem.</p><p>Then she held up her hand to show him something.</p><p>There was a large dinner knife protruding through her hand.</p><p>Jesus…</p><p>"I know," she agreed, blowing out a breath. "Need to bop it," she said, holding her palm over the table, then flipping it as if undecided which direction would hurt less. "Last time this happened, it hurt, like, <em>a lot</em>. So, I'm preparing better now," she said, lifting up the bottle with her other hand as some form of explanation.</p><p>Din shifted his gaze around the room. The bartender was glaring at them, looking none-too-pleased at this whole situation. There was also another figure lying slumped on the floor beneath the bar. He didn't really want to know about that right now.</p><p>"C'mon," he started, gently lifting her up under her arm, "let's go. I don't think the bartender will appreciate your blood everywhere."</p><p>She wavered. "Wait...I need to return his knife."</p><p>"Please just leave," the bartender interjected. By the look on his face, he had not been particularly concerned about the cutlery.</p><p>"I don't think he wants the knife back after it's been inside your hand," Din pointed out. "Let's go. We can take care of it at my ship." This was starting to feel like having another kid.</p><p>She glanced over at a man passed out on the ground by the bar, then got excited. "No! Wait," she protested. "I have a place." Then she went over to the bar to plant her hand on a set of keys in an attempt to grab them before heading towards the door.</p><p>On her way out, she stopped suddenly, causing him to nearly bump into her.</p><p>"Where's the little guy?" she asked.</p><p>"He's sleeping."</p><p>That seemed to satisfy her.</p><p>"He's so cute," she added as she turned back towards the door.</p><p>"Yup," he nodded, placing a hand on her back to continue urging her to the exit before the bartender completely lost it.</p><p>"I'm glad you two found each other," she added.</p><p>"All right," he said, finally nudging her out the door, "Let's go."</p><p>When she passed through the threshold onto the street, she paused and looked left. "This…" she started, then abruptly corrected herself and turned the opposite direction, "<em>This</em> way." Then she laughed at something, making a bold gesture forward punctuated by a "This is the Way!!"</p><p>DIn placed an extra credit on the bar and gave the bartender an apologetic nod before following her out.</p><p>He kept a few steps back while she led the way, only occasionally needing a steadying hand when she almost veered off the curb. At one point, she turned into an alley, leaning over as if to throw up. Din took the moment to buy some bread from a nearby vendor, but before he could even finish the transaction, she had popped back up with an abrupt 'Nope!' and continued on her way.</p><p>They ended up in one of the nicer neighborhoods, and she stopped to squint at a particularly ornate door.</p><p>"This one," she said, taking a balancing step back as she tried to figure out the keys.</p><p>The door opened to reveal a white marble entryway, complete with fountain and french doors leading to a courtyard and water gardens. She immediately plopped down face first on the first couch she found in the entryway.</p><p>"This is where you stay?" he asked, taking in the high ceilings.</p><p>"No. Won it. Just for a week. Needed it for something."</p><p>He walked over to the entrance of the courtyard and glanced outside. It conveniently shared a garden with a local warlord. There was a rumor that the man was an Imperial remnant, but Din hadn't had the time or access to look into it yet. Looks like she was already on top of it.</p><p>"Drinking contest," she said suddenly.</p><p>"...what?"</p><p>"Won it in a drinking contest."</p><p>Well, this all made more sense, then. He went back to lean against the couch next to her, picking up her boot to take it off before she dirtied up the pristine upholstery. He looked at her sprawled out and raised an eyebrow.</p><p>"And this is you 'winning'?"</p><p>There was a muffled response from the pillow.</p><p>"...and the knife?" he asked, working on the other boot.</p><p>"—sore loser. Got me when I reached for the keys. Reactions were a bit slow, I guess."</p><p>He paused, remembering the figure slumped on the floor. "You didn't kill him, did you?"</p><p>There was a pause, then another muffled response from the pillow. "No."</p><p>"...Why did you have to think about that?"</p><p>She turned to give him what, he supposed, was intended to be a dirty look, then turned back into her pillow.</p><p>Finally, she dragged herself to sit up, swaying a bit. When she saw him still holding the rags, she held out a hand for a few of them.</p><p>He had turned to look for a faucet with clean water when she suddenly slammed her hand against a marble table.</p><p>"Ha!" she cried, holding up the knife triumphantly. "Got it."</p><p>Hand pressed against the cloth, she walked over to the fountain, sticking her hand in a sprout of water to clean the blood away. She looked like had already forgotten about him, standing by the fountain, wavering while trying to focus her eyes on the new hole in her hand.</p><p>"...so, you don't really need anything else from me, then?" he asked, stepping up to hand her the rest of the gauze, if not just to remind her he was still there.</p><p>She gave a short laugh, turning to look him up and down. At least a part of her seemed to be trying to assess how drunk she was.</p><p>She raised an eyebrow. "Maybe."</p><p>He cocked his head at her. She definitely had something specific in mind. Nothing appropriate, either.</p><p>Not that he hadn't thought about it, especially after her little comment the other night</p><p>...or after their little moment patching up injuries after the encounter with Axe and his crew.</p><p>...or after the prison job when she could have just as easily locked the cell door behind her to trap the two of them alone in there for a few hours. Hadn't thought about that at all.</p><p>But, right now, she was <em>very</em> drunk. And the sudden switch from caretaker mode to something else made him stop in his tracks.</p><p>He realized he was death-gripping the rags still held out in his hand.</p><p>And, of course, she noticed, always somehow noticing the response despite the mask. Seeing his discomfort, she immediately honed in on it, like all of the fuzziness had immediately cleared away now that she had found something to spar with.</p><p>Here it comes, he thought. She squared with him, eyes narrowing. "You know what I would love?" she started, "what I have been absolutely fantasizing about?" She took an aggressive step forward, which would have been more effective if she didn't have to take an extra step to steady herself mid-way through.</p><p>"You and all your Mandalorian-ish...ness," she added, wiggling an accusatory finger up and down at his whole get-up.</p><p>He watched her, bracing himself.</p><p>"A hug...'Din,'" she said, adding extra emphasis to his name, "...a simple, Mandalorian hug."</p><p>He flinched. The innocence of it threw him off, just for a moment. He suddenly lost all the obvious, prepared reasons he had convinced himself of to say no.</p><p>And, of course, she knew that. Standing there, still eyeing him—in between trying to focus her gaze. Drunk or not, she still knew exactly what she was doing. Knew exactly the weak spots she could push, the little strategic jabs. Say 'no,' and he would be the uptight Mandalorian who couldn't even handle the simplest of human interactions, who immediately backed down from this tiny little challenge.</p><p>Not that he cared. If he let those sorts of jabs at the Mandalorian way of life got to him, he never would have lasted this long in the Creed.</p><p>"But that kind of easy affection is not exactly your strong suit, is it?" she said. Then she snorted at her own wording, giving him a particularly aggravating flick in the breastplate at the pun.</p><p>She wavered for a second, blinking at where she had just hit him, then looked up at him.</p><p>He held out the rags to her again. "Drink some water," he said instead.</p><p>She took in the arm's length offer in front of her, then looked down at the bottle still in her hand as if realizing it may not have her best interests in mind.</p><p>"Right...yeah, that was…" she started, trailing off.</p><p>Her hand went to her hair, a quick shake of her head before circling away like she just realized how drunk she sounded. He watched her. Any of that shrewdness was gone, vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. Instead, she fell back into contemplating the makeshift bandage, busying herself by refolding some of the remaining rags to keep them in a neat pile.</p><p>She <em>looked</em> like she had been punched in the gut. Had she actually been serious?</p><p>He rolled out his neck and sighed. "Fine," he relented. He wasn't even sure what she wanted him to do. Just stand there?</p><p>But instead of just doing the thing, she paused, hovering over the stack of bandages before turning her head for a hesitant glance at him. She suddenly looked lost, uncertain even, like she hadn't really been prepared for him to say yes and now didn't know what to do with it. Sometimes he forgot she had grown up under the same stoic, stifled Mandalorian families. Or, no...at least the first part of his life was with a normal family; she'd been born into it. Probably never even saw her own parents' faces.</p><p>C'mon, he thought when he saw her still hesitating. You can do this. It's not that hard.</p><p>Finally, she straightened, managing to twist back on that familiar shrewd smile. It was a valiant effort, but the alcohol was clearly tripping up her ability to maintain a convincing front. She very purposefully set down the bottle—like this was still all about teasing him like she was still triumphant in getting a leg up on him. Then she stepped up to him, wrapping one arm over his shoulder, then the other. He wasn't sure why, but he was surprised to find how much taller he was than her. For some reason, he had been imagining her as the same height, even though he knew that wasn't true.</p><p>Despite her best efforts to appear blase about such things, the attempted hug felt stiff at first, forced. But she was too drunk to keep up any pretense for long. Her head eventually tucked into that one soft spot just below his helmet, immediately relaxing into it when she found it like it was somehow very familiar. For a moment, he wondered if she was going to drunkenly pass out right there. He could definitely smell the alcohol on her; there was a hint of the smoky caramel, but something else underneath that as well.</p><p>Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her in return. See? Really not that big of a deal.</p><p>To be honest, though, there was something about how natural it felt that made him tense.<br/>
So, fine, maybe something so simple was effective at throwing him off after all.</p><p>He was not sure what changed, but it suddenly felt like it had gone on a moment too long. Her head shifted against him, which just made it feel otherwise painfully quiet. He was suddenly very aware of the gurgling of the fountain behind them, the scrape of fabric when he moved a hand on her back to instead rest on her waist.</p><p>She must have felt it, too. She leaned back to break away, hands dropping from around the back of his neck. He half-wondered why she had only broken away at the shoulders when he realized he still had his hands on her waist.</p><p>His hand dropped an inch or two from her waist, thumb ending up grazing the little corner of her hip, waiting to see what she wanted to do. She, however, seemed stuck contemplating her hands now resting on his breastplate as if still deciding what to do with that.</p><p>It wasn't usually something he would even think about, how it would suddenly feel natural to kiss someone in a particular moment. Always too prepared to have to discourage that notion right away. But it was...something, just to sit with it for a little bit, be able to taste it. Below, his thumb twitched over her hip bone again, just one more time.</p><p>But she interrupted it first, clearing her throat before stepping away. Her face was tucked out of sight, and she went back to ignoring him to gather the remaining rags.</p><p>She had already sat down, talking to him while tying on a new layer of bandage, the first already soaked through. Seems like she had sobered up fast.</p><p>"Thanks for the walk home. I owe you one." Then she tilted her head towards the fountain. "Feel free to take some of those fish in the fountain for the kid."</p><p>She was avoiding eye contact. Guess it was time for him to go.</p><p>"Thanks, we're good."</p><p>He moved the bread on the table before turning to go, shaking his head at the high ceilings on the way out.</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was late. Sometime in the middle of the night, he wasn't really sure of the hour anymore.</p><p>The kid was long asleep, tucked into the pram up in the cockpit. As much as he had warmed to having the little guy around, he still looked forward to the hours when he could finally have his own time. Time to shower, shave, sit around in the simple layer of fabric of his flight suit...finally eat a real meal.</p><p>Plus it was when he could have that little break from his better self. Everyone in the Creed had something, some little daily allowance for feeling human. It was an unspoken part of the routine for most—if only to better maintain the discipline for when it mattered. One in the Tribe had a weekly appointment with a pinch of spice, another who would cook lavish meals for herself, and another who would spend every night doodling a self-portrait, only to then enjoy the process of burning it before daylight.</p><p>Nothing quite fit for him right now, so, instead, he just sat on the floor of the ship, occasionally chucking a ball against the opposite wall until it bounced back. It was a little nostalgic and perfectly unproductive waste of time.</p><p>It was definitely later than he would usually stay up, though. He found he needed more time lately, especially with the kid demanding so much attention and constant vigilance throughout the day.</p><p>Plus, there was the excuse of the ship's security monitors right there. Between throws, he would idly scan through the various views outside the ship—as if some bounty hunter was going to show up at this hour.</p><p>He tapped through the screens. Nothing. Just an empty ship bay.</p><p>He continued flipping through them with one hand, the other bringing up the bottle to absentmindedly tap it against his lips. Each time he raised it he would get a whiff of smoke and citrus...and something else he couldn't quite describe. A drop of alcohol on the bottle edge hit his lip, leaving a warm numbing sensation. He took a swig. He didn't particularly enjoy the feeling of being drunk, avoided it for the most part, but he enjoyed a sip now and again, something to lace relaxing with a little edge.</p><p>Right now, he just needed something that felt like an indulgence. Not that he was ungrateful for the helmet. If it wasn’t for that, then they definitely would have kissed, and then, most likely, would have ended up on the couch. So it was for the best that he had it, really, since she had been way too drunk for any of that. It forced everything to be more deliberate, made you less likely to just fall into things naturally, which was a good thing. </p><p>He chucked the ball hard at the wall again. Not that that had been on his mind for the last few days, or anything.</p><p>The screens were completely empty. He took another swig and set it down to chuck the ball against the wall again. He didn't feel at all tired, more restless than anything, but he should probably try and get some sleep. This was erring on indulgent, and the kid would be up early as usual.</p><p>He glanced over at the screens one more time. Then his heart stopped when he saw it: the shadow of a figure walking across the ship bay.</p><p>He stayed still at his place against the wall, watching the figure set something on the ground in front of the ship.</p><p>He tapped the bottle against his lips again, mulling the sight on the screen. Then he sighed at himself, took a last swig of the warm alcohol, and resignedly got up to grab his helmet.</p><p>-------</p><p>She didn't look particularly surprised when he opened the ship door. Just...watchful, stopping to look up from where she was placing a brand new inverter at his doorstep.</p><p>He hovered there a moment while she looked back up at him, then turned and walked inside without saying anything.</p><p>When she followed in, she tentatively set the inverter down, like she was still deciding whether or not to commit to it. Then she gave a small sigh and turned around, leaning back against the counter to face him, the equipment abandoned at her back.</p><p>It felt oddly quiet. He was used to her talking first, but—for what must have been the first time—she didn't seem to have anything to say. Not that he had anything to say either.</p><p>She wavered against the counter for a moment, glancing up at him briefly before deflecting to gaze around the rest of the room instead. When her eyes finally landed on the bottle, she let out a dry laugh, straightening from the counter to step towards it. The corner of her mouth twitched as she picked up the bottle to study it, running a thumb along the dog-eared label. He could still feel the smoky citrus and numbing warmth when she lifted it for her own small taste.</p><p>She glanced at him again as she took a swig. It occurred to him then that she was seeing him without the full set of armor, that it would be the first time seeing even a glimpse of skin before his neck disappeared beneath the helmet. He wasn't sure why he only now thought of that.</p><p>After another half-hearted sip, the bottle dropped to hang ambivalently at her side. She looked a bit resigned to the fact that she was here, like it had not been quite part of her plan.</p><p>Instead, she just let out a little sigh when he stepped up to take the bottle from her, not stopping him when he moved the bottle to the counter and out of the way. She didn’t stop him either when he instead slipped a hand to her waist. Her mouth twitched again when she looked down at his hand, letting her fingers curiously pick at the fabric of his glove. With a few light tugs, she pulled it off, then stepped forward to let his bare hand slide further around her.</p><p>------</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly he wanted that natural progression, the feeling of just falling onto the couch without even thinking about any of it. But that had never been the way it worked for them.  She gave a small, awkward laugh at the uncertain pause, just as uncertain what to do. The typical Mandalorian style of things didn’t seem like the right fit.</span>
</p><p><span>So instead, took her hand and pulled them back into the one chair of his, falling back into the combative little back-and-forths to have her stand in front of him.  </span>It wasn’t until he had her there, her leg pressed up against his again, did he realize he was recreating that earlier moment, how it just maybe had been gnawing at him ever since. Her light taunting covering the sting of the cauterizer, thinking she knew just how to distract him—as if he was at all that transparent.</p><p>Now, at least, he had the little satisfaction in seeing her own reaction when he gently pulled at the ties of her shirt—see the slight relaxing of her mouth as she watched him do it. There was a little bit of revenge to it, feeling like he had finally turned the tables....just as long as he ignored her fingertips tracing the exposed portion of his neck.</p><p>A touch to her stomach made her suck in a breath in response, and one hand slipping under the edge of his flight suit. He, on the other hand, showed nothing but a perfectly stoic expression.</p><p>Her mouth twitched up slightly when her hand came to rest on his chest, as if happy at some little discovery.</p><p>“I can feel you breathing faster,” she pointed out.</p><p>He huffed. That...was barely true. Eyes narrowing at her, he let her go ahead and push his flight suit past the ridge of his shoulder while he redoubled his efforts on the remaining ties and clasps in front of him.</p><p>She had just found the still healing cut on his arm when he started to touch her. It was a brushing glance at first but grew more focused when her hand wavered in response.</p><p>He became more persistent when her grasp on his shoulder tightened, watching her swallow as her own attempts at composure failed. She was leaning into him now, her other hand coming up to balance at the base of his neck, breaths occasionally becoming audible.</p><p>When she tried to sink down into his lap, he stopped her, keeping her where she was, watching how her face turned to a look of consternation. With a huff, she diverted to lean on his shoulder, instead taking the moment to step out of a bottom layer. When she then tried to sink down again, he still resisted her.</p><p>This time she narrowed her eyes at him.</p><p>Then everything happened fast. Somehow she managed to yank the sleeves of his flight suit down before he could stop her, pinning his arms back enough for her to finally slip into his lap. His arms were out immediately, escaping the hold to instead pull her in closer—though he wasn’t really sure if that was a part of him ‘winning’ anymore. Every time she shifted or dug into him, there was that growing dull ache, interspersed by the occasional bright spots when she would begin kissing his neck.</p><p>They were up and towards the cot before he knew it, the top of his flight suit left trailing from his waist. Hoisting her up to the cot, he met her eyes for a moment—he still wasn’t sure how she always managed to look him right in the eye through the helmet—both seeming to suddenly realize where they were.</p><p>She blinked, as if losing the thread of the little combative back-and-forths. For a moment she looked a bit lost, or overwhelmed maybe. That...got to him, a little bit.</p><p>But just as quickly, she had gathered herself, reaching for him, back to kissing his neck as she helped him out of the rest of his flight suit. There was a sudden rush to move things forward, falling back on some familiar script just to get to the point where a rhythm took over, and they no longer had to think about it.</p><p>It was still more intense than it had any right to be. The rhythm turned into something they both knew they couldn’t break from, trying to not feel like they had lowered to grasping at something but failing miserably in the end.</p><p>Afterward, she ended up half on top of him, awkwardly shuffling to find room off to his side. Left to their own devices, it grew quiet again.</p><p>At times, he had been grateful for the helmet; it made some things simpler at least. It was usually what they came to him for, anyway. There was always that sad realization that it didn’t necessarily change things as much as people would think.</p><p>Her attempts to reposition next to him was awkwardly loud in the comparative quiet. Shaking her head, she gave a dry laugh before glancing over at him. She tilted her forehead against his helmet, as if in an attempt to lightly mock poor Mandalorian attempts at intimacy.</p><p>But then she just kind of stayed there when he chose to ignore it, choosing to play with her hand instead. He turned it over. There was a complicated pattern of knicks and scars on the back; one seemed to continue through to the palm.</p><p>They stayed like that for a bit until she cleared her throat, pulling her hand away to sit up in an attempt to straighten a mess of hair. Realizing he had forgotten himself, he sat up to stretch around the corner to grab a jug of water.</p><p>When he handed her a glass, she blinked. “Thanks,” she said, looking mildly surprised.</p><p>He shook his head. “It’s just water,” he pointed out.</p><p>She still looked mildly amused at that for some reason. She took the glass, downing it, then stole the jug to refill the glass again before handing it back to him.</p><p>When he turned back from returning it to the shelf, she had already thrown on her shirt, hopping down to disappear around the corner, presumably to clean up...or just get ready to leave. Though she hadn’t even bothered to touch the glass of water she had just refilled.</p><p>It wasn’t until she came back and paused at the still full glass did he realize that she might have been giving him space to drink it himself. He watched her purse her lips, as if reminding herself of something before turning to find her clothes.</p><p>There were ways, or angles at least, to pretend like the helmet wasn’t there. Not that staying behind someone was any more intimate, but at least they could picture some face instead of a constant reminder of cold metal. It was something, at least.</p><p>He looked at her stretched over the cot, trying to find some clothes on the floor, muttering something to herself. One bare ankle ended up lying in front of him. He considered it for a moment, taking a thumb and forefinger to wrap around it. When he started tracing her leg, she finally paused what she was doing. There was a resigned sigh from across the bed, but she didn’t protest when he gently pulled at her to drag her back towards him.</p><p>At least she could have a warm body pressed against her, her back against him, one arm wrapped over her side, all the while making sure any cold metal stayed off her skin. It felt like they were both more present this time, testing out each reaction while a hand drifted across the rest of her.</p><p>Things got more heated when his touch grew more focused. She started turning into his hand, seemingly unable to decide between pressing down against it or pushing back towards him, eventually just hooking one leg back around his in an attempt to pull him in closer, all but the helmet touching.</p><p>Then she was reaching back for that too. He let her, metal ending up against the crook of her neck. Despite the cold wall, she still half-turned as if to meet him, pretending as if it was no different, encouraging him on. He could see her eyes close when he nudged her knee apart, mouth parting when he finally slid inside.</p><p>He was trying not to let up, touching her outside and in, but things were getting more desperate, each breath becoming more vocal as they moved against each other. Her half-turn towards him no longer seemed enough; she was looking for something else, finding his other hand, holding it against her lips to kiss his palm, his fingertips. Which just…</p><p>He had to drop down to brace against her, feeling her start to tense just as much under him. He couldn’t let up, feeling her begin to writhe, her mouth opening against his hand, holding it there for her to help muffle her cries when they came, relaxing into kissing his palm until he followed soon after.</p><p>This time he needed a minute, turning to see her also laying spent a little ways away, back turned to him, catching her breath, sweat-streaked hair plastered to the back of her neck.</p><p>Eventually, he forced himself up to grab the glass while she lay there, first offering it to her. But she just waved him away, too spent to even lift her head.</p><p>He gave a short laugh, sitting up to take the glass back for himself. She was still plastered against the cot, face turned away, and looked perfectly content to stay there for now.</p><p>So he lifted the edge of the helmet to take a sip, audible enough to let her know not to move—though he got the feeling hearing him drink made her relax down even more.</p><p>A strand of hair fell from her shoulder into her face. He watched as she made an awkward attempt to brush it out of the way without shifting from her spot. Cup still in hand, he reached over to help her brush it out of the way. Then in a moment of...something, he set the glass down and bent to kiss the cleared spot at the base of her neck.</p><p>That was...not smart.</p><p>She immediately froze at the touch. And it was hardly just a touch or the simple dot of contact he had been expecting. Instead, it spread everywhere. Or was somehow...overrepresented, compared to anything else.</p><p>Neither of them moved. But he could see her chest moving in some kind of shallow, tense breath. Finally, not able to take it any longer, she shifted her hand against the cot to turn towards him.</p><p>He shot a hand out to stop her.</p><p>“Don’t,” he warned.</p><p>If she turned toward him enough to actually kiss him, he would completely lose it. She seemed to get that, forcing herself to settle back down.</p><p>It was meant to be a simple, warm gesture, but now it felt like they were back at some precarious edge. Seeing her pinned there, trying so hard not to move, but also barely able to control her breathing. One of her hands had grasped the frame of the cot in front of her in some effort to restrain herself.</p><p>He dropped his hand from its hold on her wrist, watching as she stayed right where she was.</p><p>Then he bent to do it again.</p><p>He could feel her whole body react. There was a clear hitch in her breath when he bent to kiss the firm edge of her shoulder blade.</p><p>He returned to do it again to the nape of her neck—that turned out to be a bit softer. Then the smooth spot behind her ear, then the corner of her jawline, all the while picturing holding her against him again, this time able to turn towards him to place her hands on both sides of his face.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>It took some sudden realization to push away, forcing himself back against the wall.</p><p>The minute his helmet sealed back down, she was up, spinning around to glare at him. Face flushed, still breathing hard, she looked at him desperately for a moment before moving to lean in where his helmet had just been tilted up.</p><p>He had to push her back. No. He stopped for a reason. That couldn’t happen.</p><p>Her eyes darted to the lines of his neck just below the helmet instead.</p><p>He let her get as far as a hand on his chest before he pushed her back again, shaking his head. “Don’t,” he sighed. Even that would be too much.</p><p>She looked lost for a moment, fingertips pressed against her lips while trying to figure out something, anything that was allowable, or at least safe.</p><p>Something ticked on her face, like some kind of pain or frustration. But whatever it was, she seemed to talk herself out of it, returning to lift her hand from his chest to replace it with a light kiss, lowering until she could help him find some other release.</p><p>It was a different kind of kiss. But a perfectly distracting substitute for now.</p><p>Even then, as she continued, he still felt that same restlessness. He didn’t want to reach the end just yet.</p><p>Before he realized what he was doing, he pulled her off of him, flipping her on her back and throwing one leg over his shoulder. She made a flustered, confused attempt to push his helmet out from between her legs, some attempt to warn him off.</p><p>“Wait...wait,” she breathed.</p><p>Her cautions immediately turned to a panicked gasp when he tilted the helmet anyways to kiss her.</p><p>The second time he did it, she cried out, trying to muffle herself at each new tiny motion. Her hands had stopped their half-hearted effort to push him off, legs instead tightening against him. The sounds she was making just spurred him on, wanting to pull her hips forward, locking his arms around his legs. He would just have to tilt it back a little bit further...</p><p>“I can’t,” he breathed, pulling himself away to let the helmet fall back down. “I’m sorry, I just can’t,” he repeated.</p><p>She was nodding and shaking her head at the same time. “...fine,” she said quickly, “It’s fine.”</p><p>“I just won’t be able to stop,” he tried to explain.</p><p>She actually managed a short laugh, hand still plastered to her forehead, “Stop apologizing,” she cursed, then reached down to pull him up with her.</p><p>When they finally finished, he had the briefest moment of finally feeling satiated. Then he turned to see her with her back facing him again, hair strewn across her neck where she could so easily turn before he got a chance to stop her.</p><p>He turned to stare up at the ceiling and sighed. He was right back where he started.</p><p>She must have heard him. She turned, looking at him briefly before rolling over to join him in his inspection of the ceiling.</p><p>She seemed to be trying to find the right words. He could feel her readjust her unsupported head against the hard cot before she finally spoke. At least the helmet kept his neck at a comfortable angle.</p><p>“I don’t suppose you have a pillow in this place?” she asked.</p><p>“Not really,” he admitted.</p><p>They were both at an awkward angle; the cot really wasn’t made for two.</p><p>Finally, she let out a sigh in commiseration. “Your bed sucks,” she concluded.</p><p>He couldn’t really disagree. But there was nothing he could—or was going to—do about that. It was his choice, after all, but still one he made every day.</p><p>Instead, he moved his arm out from between them, making room so she could, at least, cushion her head against him. She mentioned something that resonated in the back of his mind, but his eyes were already closed, only managing a humming sound in response.</p><p>------</p><p>When he woke up, she was gone. Not that he was surprised. The bedroll tucked under his hand in place of where she had been was his first clue. That made him drop his head back against the cot with a short laugh.</p><p>There was a memory of a dream the night before. Some arid village street, the vague sense that other Mandalorians were out somewhere in the fight. He saw her across the way, staring at something on the ground. Then she turned, looking right at him, right in the eye. She gestured for him to come over. When he walked up, he saw she was standing before a root cellar door in the ground. He bent to open it, pausing to consider what he had found inside. Then he handed her his blaster, knowing that she would watch his back, while he used both hands to reach down and lift the child.</p><p>He sighed. It was late. He needed to get cleaned up; the kid would be getting antsy at this point.</p><p>When he opened the door to the cockpit, the kid was already standing there. The little guy glared up at him with a frustrated 'Phh’ sound.</p><p>"I know, I know, I'm late for your breakfast," Din admitted.</p><p>When the kid was finally content with a bowl of food, Din picked up the inverter Neera had brought the night before. He had no idea where she had managed to find that for him; he thought he had scoured the entire town already.</p><p>After a few adjustments, the comms unit finally buzzed back to life. There was a flurry of beeps as a pile of backed-up messages came in.</p><p>There was a message from Cara. Something about updates on Gideon.</p><p>Another message. Something more urgent this time. Gideon was on the move, seemed to be honing in, at least to the sector. He looked through the files. 15 messages had piled up.</p><p>Frowning, he skipped right ahead to the latest.</p><p>Cara and Greef hadn't been able to reach him. It was urgent. They would come to find him instead. They at least knew the city.</p><p>He looked at the date on the last message. They should be here by now. They would probably have to ask around town to find him. They should be able to find him. So far, the multitude of bounty hunters had no problem searching out a conspicuous Mandalorian and his little green pet.</p><p>That made him laugh. He should probably make sure to tell Neera that he was expecting some company. If she saw two more strangers looking around for him, she might just try to murder them.</p><p>He paused.</p><p>No...she would definitely try to murder them.</p><p>He pulled the kid away from his bowl and rushed out to find them before she did.</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Neera, stand down!”</p><p>Cara and Greef looked up in surprise when he shouted down at them in the alley below.</p><p>It looked like he had found them just in time. The cantina owner had said he had just missed them, that that cursed woman with the scar had been more than happy to take these newcomers’ money in exchange for leading them to the local Mandalorian.</p><p>And now he found them walking a few paces behind her, blasters half-heartedly trained on the woman in front of them while they paid more attention to scanning their surroundings. It probably helped that she sauntered in front of them with the lazy gait of someone who had had too much to drink. Even he had barely recognized her at first. She looked more slouched and malleable, just another scraper who would do their best to rip you off for a few credits, but no more of a threat than that.</p><p>By the time he had hopped down to stand between them, her whole demeanor had changed. Now she had straightened, eyeing him with a curious shrewdness.</p><p>He put a hand up to hold her off. “They’re friends. They’re friends,” he explained, still catching his breath.</p><p>Neera blinked, then actually looked embarrassed. It was a weird moment to find it endearing when she blushed slightly at the mistake.</p><p>“Shoot,” she said, turning to face Greef and Cara. “Sorry about that,” she apologized, taking the moment to tuck away two throwing blades that had appeared out of nowhere. She stretched out a warm hand. “I’m Neera,” she offered. She cast a side glance at Din. “I didn’t know he was expecting company.”</p><p>Those throwing knives looked awfully familiar. He stepped to her side, dropping his voice. “The comms were down, remember?” he pointed out.</p><p>She looked back at him, realization dawning on her. “Well shit...that would have been bad,” she admitted. She turned to Greef and Cara, suddenly sincere and welcoming. “Apologies to you both. Let me buy you two a drink to make up for it,” she offered.</p><p>Greef and Cara blinked back at them. They looked like they were still trying to catch up to her warm invitation while only just registering that she had been about to slit their throats.</p><p>Din turned back to her, eyeing the glint of steel blades now tucked into her belt. Beskar. He casually reached down to slip them away from her.</p><p>“And stop stealing my stuff,” he admonished her.</p><p>She took the moment to look back at him, smiling slightly. “Then don’t fall asleep before saying goodnight,” she murmured back. “Your fault for leaving me unsupervised with all your toys,” she added.</p><p>He watched her walk over to say hello to Greef as Cara came up to stand next to him.</p><p>Cara raised an eyebrow. “New guard dog?” she asked.</p><p>He stole a glance at Neera and Greef as they walked by. “...more like a stray cat who likes to leave gifts at my door,” he said with a sigh, the comment punctuated by Neera adding a mocking purring noise in response as she overheard them.</p><p>Cara gave him another raise of her eyebrow, a little smirk just visible before she turned to follow.<br/>
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The cantina owner seemed surprised when they all walked back in together in one piece.</p><p>Neera hung back from the table as they caught up, leaning on the counter behind them after delivering some drinks.</p><p>“Gideon is honing in on you, my friend,” Greef announced.</p><p>Din glanced at the kid who just innocently gazed back at him. He looked to Cara for confirmation.</p><p>“He at least knows the sector; I don’t know how much else,” Cara said.</p><p>“—the port,” Neera interrupted.</p><p>They turned back to glance at her. She looked like she had just had some epiphany.</p><p>“They just announced they’re closing the port for ‘repairs.’ No ships will be able to get out.”<br/>
She shook her head, mulling something. “He already knows you’re here.”</p><p><em>Shit</em>, he cursed. He wasn’t ready for this showdown; it needed to be somewhere on his terms, not this ambush. They were better off running.</p><p>He turned to Greef and Cara. “How do you two feel about some light sabotage of a port blockade?” he asked them both.</p><p>They turned to each other. “We weren’t planning on staying on this planet long anyway,” Cara quipped.</p><p>Din turned. “Neera?” he asked.</p><p>Neera hesitantly glanced at the three of them as if vaguely surprised to be included in the official group plans.</p><p>She nodded. “Sounds like a perfectly weird second date,” she said. “I’ll go get my armor.”</p><p>When he turned back, Cara and Greef were giving him that amused look again. He cleared his throat and ignored them, picking up the kid to head back to the ship.</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It started off straightforward enough.</p><p>Greef worked his magic with some bureaucratic-sounding nonsense, sidling his way into the port offices while the rest of them watched from the cover of the access tunnels. Din didn't bother asking Neera where she had gotten the explosives.</p><p>She eyed Greef when he came back to join them.</p><p>"You locked the door behind you? I don't want anyone in the blast radius," Neera pressed.</p><p>"Yes, ma'am," Greef replied with a no-nonsense nod.</p><p>The sudden deferential tone made Din do a double-take. That was quick. It had taken him years to cut through the smooth-talking bullshit to see even a hint of Greef's sincere side.</p><p>He glanced at Neera while she peered through the grate in front of them. He realized he hadn't seen her in her armor before. It suited her. And he couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in her demeanor. Gone was the sly playfulness or the little quips from the corner. Instead, she was just focused on the job, a more quiet confidence as she fell into the role of leading from behind.</p><p>He found himself wondering what she looked like with the helmet on.</p><p>Neera turned to catch him looking at her.</p><p>She gave him a curious look. "What?" she asked.</p><p>He just shook his head. "Nothing."</p><p>The kid shifted in the bag at his hip to peek up at her. He looked like he was checking in with her for some kind of confirmation.</p><p>She frowned. "He looks anxious," she pointed out.</p><p>He'd noticed that too; there was no obvious reason for him to be this scared right now. The kid had sunk to the bottom of the bag, eyes barely peeking up over the top to nervously stare down at the port offices.</p><p>Din followed his gaze to the empty hall below. It could be that Gideon was already here. Maybe the kid could sense something like that. "We stay till we confirm the port is open, then we can get out of here," he decided.</p><p>Neera nodded in agreement but then looked just as uneasy as the kid.</p><p>They all sank down in anticipation of the small blast. When they straightened, official personnel ran around in chaos, struggling to get into damage control mode.</p><p>And then there was Gideon. Walking out behind some frazzled local manager. He looked mildly unimpressed with the whole situation. Behind him was an entire platoon of stormtroopers.</p><p>Someone walked out behind him. It was a tall figure, cloaked. When Gideon turned to see him approach, he gave a subservient bow.</p><p>"Run."</p><p>"What?" Din turned, not quite registering what Neera had just said.</p><p>"Change of plans. We run," she repeated. She was already gathering her things.</p><p>Din looked at her; she was freaked out. That, he realized, was incredibly unsettling. He started gathering the kid.</p><p>Greef balked. "What? Why? There's no way they can see us up here."</p><p>Cara squinted at the new figure. "Who is that?" she asked.</p><p>Neera just shook her head. "Bad Jedi," she explained, voice clipped. "Just...very, very bad. Run. Now."</p><p>Cara, curious, turned to look back down at this new enemy. It took Neera grabbing her by the arm to pull her away—but not before seeing the figure look up to stare right back at them. Then he raised a hand to direct all of the forces right to them.<br/>----------<br/>They could hear them closing in the whole run back to the ship. At least the tunnels gave them some protection. Most of the troopers were kept bottled necked behind them, keeping the swarm manageable enough to slow down with a few well-placed charges.</p><p>But the troopers still found ways in. At every access point, side door, a few would come streaming in. Each of their small group did their part to take them out. It was more than a platoon, though. Din realized how serious it was when Neera dropped her satchel during one particularly violent confrontation. She had looked back at it, swallowed, then turned away and told the others to keep moving, the sound of more stormtroopers not too far behind.</p><p>She shouldn't have had to do that, he thought. She must have been carrying that thing around with her for decades. He didn't ask her to do that. Then he remembered that he had never really had to ask her for any of this.</p><p>They just needed to get to the ship and get out. But it was going to be close.</p><p>They rounded a corner.</p><p>No…, he breathed before he even knew what he was looking at.</p><p>The path in front of them was completely blocked, chunks of cement from the ceiling and wall filling up the narrow tunnel. One of their earlier blasts must have destabilized it.</p><p>Greef and Cara had already raced ahead to tackle it, pulling away blocks of cement without even a moment of hesitation. Neera had hung back with him; she was glancing back behind them, contemplating the sound of the wall of stormtroopers trying to get past the last blockade they had left.</p><p>Based on the sound, they had about two minutes. This would take at least five.</p><p>He gritted his teeth; they would just have to find a way to make it work. He stepped forward to join the others.</p><p>"Din…," her voice came soft behind him.</p><p>His heart immediately sank when he heard it.</p><p>"We can still make it," he said unconvincingly.</p><p>"Din," she repeated—he realized she had never really said his name out loud before. "We're not going to make it," she said simply. Then she gave him a pointed look. "I'm going back to hold them off."</p><p>No. "You won't be able to catch back up to us," he protested.</p><p>She cocked her head at him. She already knew that.</p><p>That made him balk. He looked back towards the path behind them. "You'll lose," he pointed out.</p><p>There was that crooked smile again. "Yup, but I'll annoy the hell out of them in the meantime."</p><p>He shook his head. This wasn't right. "I'll go," he offered instead.</p><p>A short laugh escaped her, "Typical Mandalorian: fighting for the honor to die in battle."</p><p>That just made him frustrated. "No. We'll go together."</p><p>She tilted her head. "You know you can't do that," she said patiently. "You need to stay with him."</p><p>He looked down at the kid; he looked completely terrified. Din had never seen him this scared before. He was practically clutching at his leg through the bag. Behind them, Greef and Cara were shouting at them, telling them to hurry up and come help.</p><p>He looked back at the hallway behind them, struggling to think of a better option.</p><p>Seeing his hesitation, she placed a hand on his arm. "I still have some beskar. It's not like I'm completely unguarded," she reminded him. "But I am still taking these," she winked as she stole two or three of his remaining charges off of his belt.</p><p>"Wait," he protested again. This wasn't fair, wasn't right.</p><p>"It's okay," she assured him, taking another step closer. "It's a good fight. That's all I ever wanted. I would have zero regrets about a proper Mandalorian end."</p><p>Greef and Cara were shouting at them again, yelling at them to stop talking and come help.</p><p>"Just give me a minute!" he shouted back. Just a minute, he just needed a minute to think.</p><p>She saw that he was stuck standing there, still just staring at the way behind them. "Okay," she said with a short nod, then turned to go.</p><p>He stopped her. "You can't have a Mandalorian death; you don't have a helmet," he pointed out.</p><p>That looked like it was a punch in the gut. She let out an exasperated breath, shoulders dropping as if that was seriously NOT what she needed to hear right now.</p><p>The look broke when he reached up to remove the helmet.</p><p>He stretched out a hand to offer it to her.</p><p>She was staring at him, eyes wide. He did his best to ignore the screaming sensation of another Mandalorian staring back at him, exposed. He swallowed. No, this was right. He pushed his hand and the helmet forward again, urging her on. He couldn't stand her still just staring at him like that.</p><p>"Take it—" he started.</p><p>His hand was swatted away before he could finish, interrupted by her reaching around the back of his neck to step up and kiss him.</p><p>The move took him by surprise, taking a step back at first to brace himself. But the feeling of her lips against his, hand in his hair, immediately took up the entire foreground. He couldn't decide which sensation to even focus on; it was all too novel and overwhelming and new... but somehow completely natural at the same time. They really had no time for this, but he leaned into it anyway.</p><p>She pulled away, then made a frustrated noise when she saw him, immediately doing it again. This time he played with returning it.</p><p>Somewhere in the background, the sound of the stormtroopers was growing nearer.</p><p>She cursed at the interruption, finally pulling away. "Just had to also be attractive under there..." she muttered, reaching out to finally take the helmet from him.</p><p>She looked back at the corridor behind them, sighing slightly as she rolled the helmet in her hands. Finally, she turned, stealing another glance at his face before wincing slightly. "I really hope I make it out of this," she admitted.</p><p>He could only attempt a weak smile in response.</p><p>Below, the kid made a confused sound at the two of them.</p><p>"Bye, friend," she said, bending to give a light tug on his ear. "Keep practicing."</p><p>Then she looked up one last time, nodded, and turned, raising the helmet to her head as she slipped back out the way they had just come.</p><p>He watched her go, then turned back to the blocked passageway.</p><p>Cara and Greef were staring at him as he walked up.</p><p>He glanced up at them, no energy to deal with their glares at his exposed face right now.</p><p>"She's going to buy us what time she can," he told them. "So we had better make it worthwhile."</p><p>As they cleared the rubble, he could hear the start of the commotion behind them. There was a blast, some shouting, and then the sound of sustained firing for what seemed like a long time.</p><p>He felt a desperate rush to clear the tunnel. At some point, he realized that he just wanted to get out of there before it got quiet behind them.</p><p>The commotion was still going when they finally made it through. They made it to the ship, made it through the now opened port. As they took off, he pulled the kid out of the bag and into his lap, sitting down by one of the ship portholes. The kid made an empathetic cooing noise, crawling up on his chest to place a searching hand on his face. Din looked down at the kid, now calm but doleful. He took his little hand and just pressed it against his lips, the kid giving a little whimper before resting on his shoulder to nuzzle into his neck. They both sat there, looking out the porthole to the disappearing planet below.</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bo-Katan finally called on him one day. She had been smart enough to keep her distance after what Axe had tried to pull. But now she was reaching out, asking to meet with him, assuring him that he could leave the kid behind, encouraging it even.</p><p>Not that he trusted her any more than before. Still, he was going to need help. He sighed; he was going to need a new helmet. It wasn't as if he could go back to the Armorer anymore, even if he could find her again.</p><p>He had been dragging his feet long enough, hiding out on yet another backwater planet while he mulled what to do next. But now it was time to move on, move forward, and figure out next steps. There was this new enemy he’d have to deal with, someone beyond Gideon, and he had no idea what sort of power that thing even had.</p><p>That meant he was probably going to need Bo’s help. There were no other Mandalorians to turn to, not anymore. Greef and Cara would always be there if he really needed them, but it wasn't the same, not really.</p><p>Not that it would be simple with any of the other Mandalorians either; he couldn’t exactly confide in them or speak openly with them. He was just going to have to navigate the politics on his own now.</p><p>Din chucked the part he'd been working on with a frustrated curse. It flew into a pile of scrap metal nearby with a loud crash.</p><p>The kid jumped at the outburst, suddenly dropping the tool he had been playing with. He looked confused as if wondering if he had done something wrong—which was understandable considering there was no one else there.</p><p>"No," Din quickly assured him. "Not you. I'm not mad at you," he repeated, handing the tool back to the kid. The kid blinked at him, looked at the tool, looked up at him, then decided to offer the tool back to him, wiggling it slightly in the air with a hopeful questioning sound, as if realizing Din might need the toy more than him.</p><p>Din sighed, taking the tool with a thankful pat of the kid's head. The kid went back to happily playing with some other tools.</p><p>Poor guy. At least Din knew there were other Mandalorians somewhere; the kid had nobody like him. At least not anymore. He would have to leave him here for the visit with Bo; that local villager seemed trustworthy enough. It was too dangerous to even leave him with Greef or Cara anymore, or Pelli; Gideon would be trailing all of them.<br/>
---------</p><p>"What do you want Bo," he asked when he emerged from his ship to find her waiting there. It came out sounding more weary than confrontational.</p><p>She blinked when she saw his exposed face but didn't say anything. Instead, she stepped forward in that conspiratorial, subtly aggressive way of hers. It was always a power move, no matter how helpful or sincere the offer that followed was.</p><p>"I...owe you for what we tried to pull before," she explained. "It was a lapse in judgment. But I have a way for you and the kid to stay together and finally get Gideon off your back."</p><p>He stayed silent, just waiting for her to explain.</p><p>She looked like she was enjoying trying to read his face. "Gideon wants me to set up a meeting with you," she explained.</p><p>"You've got to be kidding me," he balked. "I'm not risking that so that you can finally get the darksaber."</p><p>There was a curt nod; she expected this. "Gideon tells me he has lost the darksaber."</p><p>Din scoffed. "And you believe him?"</p><p>She cocked her head. "I have reason to," she said, then she shifted her gaze to look past his shoulder. "See for yourself."</p><p>Din turned to see the unmistakable silhouette of Gideon walking in.</p><p>Bo clamped a hand down on his blaster before he could even draw it. "Hear what he has to say. My forces are right outside if he tries anything." Then she glanced at Gideon. "I'll give you two some space."</p><p>Reluctantly, Din dropped his blaster hand and watched as she walked out. Then he turned to face Gideon. He was prepared to hate that Gideon could now see every twitch of his eye and set of his jaw.</p><p>But then he caught a better glimpse of Gideon. It was the eyes that caught his attention first. Gideon's cunning dark eyes was one of the first things Din had noticed about him. Now one eye was milky white, unseeing. It was the only thing interrupting a long melted scar that ran from his scalp before disappearing beneath his collar. As he walked toward Din, one foot dragged behind him slightly, and he looked like he was straining to hide a limp underneath his typical clipped military gait.</p><p>"You look worse for wear," Din pointed out, leaving just a little room for satisfaction at the thought of Neera doing some damage before she went.</p><p>There was a twitch to Gideon's lip, but he otherwise ignored that jab. "This chase of ours," he started, "this cat and mouse, it has gone on long enough. So I come to you with an offer, a compromise. I will leave you and the Child alone if you provide me with a sample of his blood. That is it. That is all that I need, and you two can stay together in peace."</p><p>"The Empire? Compromise?" Din said sarcastically. "You sound almost desperate."</p><p>"I am desperate," Gideon readily admitted, "and you should be too. You still fail to understand your situation. I am the first pass, a mere foot soldier. If I fail, something much worse is coming for you both."</p><p>Gideon stopped to study him, considering. "You are frightened of me, yes? You saw what I was capable of on Nevarro— the Empire come again," he said. "But who do I fear? Not you. I can assure you. Even I serve someone, and he has grown impatient. You give me the blood, the Child lives, and we will both avoid immeasurable pain.</p><p>Din didn't move. "The answer is no."</p><p>Gideon sighed. "You’ll reconsider once you have time to think on it," he said. "I encourage you to truly consider your options. A pint of his blood and the Child will be safe, and you and he will finally be able to rest."</p><p>"It's not happening," Din said dismissively. Had Bo brought him all this way for this?</p><p>Gideon's eye twitched. "Fine," he snapped. Din realized he was more impatient than anything. Maybe he was desperate. Gideon turned to go, but first, he paused, pulling something from a pack.</p><p>"Oh, and I believe this is yours," Gideon added casually.</p><p>On the table between them, Gideon placed an all-too-familiar Mandalorian helmet. Din stared at it; there was a dent on one side that made him feel slightly sick. What had it taken to dent beskar like that?</p><p>Gideon gazed at the helmet curiously. "She was a surprise; I'll give you that," he admitted. "I don't think even you appreciated what you had there. Almost had me, even took the darksaber from my hand; got right by, through me really, and straight for the man I serve. But all this only because he let her. And then he swatted her away like a fly."</p><p>He casually poked at the dent, sending the helmet toppling sideways. "This is what you're up against. Your beskar means little to him; Mandalorians' only real strength was their numbers…And now you don't even have her."</p><p>Gideon pulled an envelope from beneath his robes, and wistfully considered it.</p><p>"The man I serve thinks I should tell you some story that she's still alive, that she was captured instead of killed. He thinks that you have some attachment that will be a weakness that we can exploit, some distraction. But for all his power, he still fails to understand Mandalorians. You soldiers who sacrifice for the cause, for some honor, would never risk the war for one soldier. It would be too…'disrespectful.'"</p><p>Gideon rolled the envelope in his hands. "But I think the uncertainty is even better. So, I'll leave you with the location of where we're 'holding' her. Our intended little trap," he said it sarcastically as he flicked the piece of paper onto the table. "Could be dead...or could be sitting in a cell, just waiting for someone to show up and lift a simple latch."</p><p>"But then again," Gideon added. "If she were still alive, wouldn't she have found her own way out by now?"</p><p>Gideon had stopped talking, watching him for a response. Din tried to remember to keep his face flat. He hated these games, Gideon's calculations, didn't have the energy for it. Instead, he pulled his gaze away from the helmet to look back at Gideon.</p><p>"What is your strategy here?" he asked simply.</p><p>Gideon raised an eyebrow. "My strategy?"</p><p>Din sighed. If he didn't want him to take the bait, then...what? Din gritted his teeth. "What do you want with this," he repeated.</p><p>That made Gideon smile. "I <em>want</em> you to have a constant dull pain in the back of your mind that never goes away," Gideon explained, voice growing more persistent. He placed his hands on the table, more eager now as he leaned forward to peer straight at Din. The fingers of one glove did not bend against the table; Din realized three of the fingers had been replaced with prosthetics.</p><p>Gideon looked at him intently from the one remaining good eye. "I want you to <em>hurt</em>."</p><p>So was a cold, calculated strategy. He was pissed, Din realized. Simple as that. He glanced from the scar blinding Gideon's eye, to the missing fingers, to the dragging foot. She had completely maimed him. He wondered how much the dark uniform and heavy cloak hid other damage.</p><p>Gideon stood back up, blinking back his composure. "If it is no longer expedient for me to take the Child from you, then I can at least leave you with the bitter taste of uncertainty."</p><p>Gideon turned to go. "I strongly suggest you consider your options," he added again. "Maybe you won’t have to lose anyone else for a change."</p><p>With that, Gideon walked out, leaving the helmet and envelope on the table.</p><p>When Din finally walked back outside, Bo was waiting for him. Her eyes immediately fell to the piece of paper in his hand.</p><p>"We can help you," she offered, though her voice was cautious, "with whatever you need. I have more forces than ever who will follow me."</p><p>He looked at her. He didn't like the glint in her eye, the barely suppressed excitement in her voice. She looked like she was just in reach of some goal.</p><p>So Gideon had told her that Neera had won the darksaber from him, he realized. At least Bo was consistent in her motivations. He sighed. It had been such a simple act, and now everyone was trying to take that from her, trying to twist it to serve their own purposes.</p><p>Din tucked the helmet under his arm, stashing the paper deep in a pocket where Bo could not reach it. "If she were still alive," he countered, "she'd have found her own way out by now. The darksaber is gone; I recommend you find your own way to lead."</p><p>Bo blinked, actively trying to suppress some kind of indignation that threatened to boil over. He got out of there before she got it in her head to take the information by force. Neither one of them needed to be sucked into that trap right now.</p><p>Instead, he went back to the latest little planet and picked up the kid. They sat together on the floor as the kid played with his reclaimed helmet. Looks like they would be back to the same old running and hiding until he could come up with his own plan.</p><p>At least he had solved the helmet issue for now. His thumb absentmindedly ran along the violent dent on the outside, hesitating before following it to the interior. It was still completely smooth inside; the damage hadn't ruined the integrity. He studied the smooth interior for a while, then finally bent his head to let the kid help him put it back on.</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Things were becoming untenable after the meeting with Gideon; he had to admit that now. Especially after nearly losing the kid a second time in the past few weeks. The first time had been entirely his fault. When he had found a dead bounty hunter in an alleyway, he had let his guard down—the exact opposite of what he should have done. It had, of course, just been the work of a rival bounty hunter, one who was still on the hunt. Not sure what else he was really expecting; it had always been the only reasonable explanation.</p><p>Of course, he didn’t tell Cara any of this when she came to check in on him. There wasn’t any point in worrying her, not until he could come up with an actual plan that didn’t involve getting them all killed.</p><p>She didn’t seem too surprised when he greeted her with the helmet back on. Or at least she didn’t show it. He pullrd out two glasses, though, before joining her to sit on the edge of the ship door.</p><p>“Drink?” he asked.</p><p>She lifted an eyebrow when he removed the helmet to sit down and join her.</p><p>“Is this your new compromise?” she asked.</p><p>“Best I could come up with,” he admitted. There was also the fact he simply wanted to; he needed to share a drink with someone right now. It felt comfortable enough to sit side-by-side while they watched the kid play.</p><p>She took a sip before hazarding a glance at the helmet on the floor between them. “Is that your original helmet,” she asked.</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>She looked at him then. The more direct, concerned look made him shift in his seat.</p><p>“Gideon’s idea of taunting me,” he explained.</p><p>“And is it working?” she asked.</p><p>He didn’t respond to that. Instead, he just took a drink and turned his attention back to the kid. The little guy was happily chasing frogs in the field in front of them.</p><p>Watching the kid with him, Cara seemed to hesitate, as if looking for the right words. Finally, she spoke up.</p><p>“The kid seems a bit…down since losing his new friend,” she started. “Maybe it’s time to find a better planet, somewhere with a nice little town,” she suggested, looking out at the burnt-out shell of a landscape around them. “You could always go back to Sorgan; he seemed happy there.” She hazarded a smile. “Might not be half bad for you either,” she teased. “You could finally take advantage of that handsome mug you’ve been hiding under there.”</p><p>He gave her a laugh at least, then shook his head. “It’s not safe,” he said simply. As if there wasn’t more to it than that. The same result, though. When he pictured something like that, it never seemed fair; his head would be elsewhere the entire time.</p><p>“Still?” she asked. “If you need help with something, you know you can just ask,” she reminded him. “You can’t keep hiding forever,” she pointed out.</p><p>“I’m working on it,” he admitted. “Just none of the options presented so far seem great.”</p><p>The truth was he was going to need more people. A ragtag team with Cara and Greef would never cut it; it would just get someone else killed. And all his other contacts had their own challenges. He was running out of options, though. Gideon was right on that one point; their strength had always been in their numbers.</p><p>-----------<br/>
Bo-Katan already looked mildly annoyed to see him show up. Or maybe she was just harried; she looked distracted by five other things when she finally took the time to meet with him.</p><p>“I’ve heard you’ve amassed quite the army since we last spoke,” he started.</p><p>She looked at him. “Could be more,” she countered.</p><p>Straight to the point, he muttered to himself.</p><p>“Gideon has only become more persistent. I need your help,” he admitted.</p><p>She briefly glanced behind her, as if distracted by some other task waiting for her. “I told you I would help, but you know what I want,” she reminded him impatiently.</p><p>“It’s been nearly a year,” he pointed out, trying his best to feign surprise. “You’re still on that?”</p><p>The distractions in the background seemed to fall away then. She took a step toward him. “More than ever,” she emphasized.</p><p>It was then that he noticed how strained she looked. There was an intensity in her eyes when she glared back at him, but under that, dark circles and signs of stress and late nights.</p><p>“It was clearly a trap. I burned that envelope. Months ago,” he told her.</p><p>She squinted at him. “I don’t believe you.”</p><p>He didn’t bother responding.</p><p>With that, she straightened, clearly indicating the meeting was over. “Then you have nothing to offer me,” she said dismissively. “Gideon, whomever he works for, is not my problem right now, and there is no reason to risk my troops for your problems. We have our own battles to fight.”</p><p>She did take a moment to step forward one more time, eyeing his helmet with a sly look that made him uncomfortable. “Why don’t you ask your old Tribe for help?” she suggested, knowing full well why that wasn’t an option.</p><p>He tried to hide how he tensed. “I don’t know where to find them,” he said. That was technically true.</p><p>She held up one hand to interrupt him, walking over to scribble something on a piece of paper. Then she walked back over and handed it to him.</p><p>He took the piece of paper. There was a location written on it.</p><p>“See how easy that was?” she quipped.</p><p>He dropped his hand. “You know I can’t go back to them,” he finally admitted.</p><p>She raised an eyebrow. “If only there were a new Mand’alor who could unite us all under one set of rules.”</p><p>With that, she walked back to her fifty other tasks going on in the background.<br/>
----------</p><p>It took him a while to decide whether or not to wear the helmet before going to find them. He had already broken his honor once, was lying about it that much different?</p><p>The Armorer looked up when he walked in.</p><p>“Din Djarin has returned,” she announced. She gestured towards the small table. “Come.”</p><p>He knelt as he had done so many times before, this time remembering to pull the kid around in his satchel. The kid looked around curiously at the dark room and helmeted faces.</p><p>“I see the Child is still with you. Your quest continues,” she said warmly.</p><p>“Yes. But I may need your help. There is a greater enemy now, a Jedi,” he explained.</p><p>“You were meant to bring the Child to the Jedi,” she reminded him.</p><p>“This one is...bad. I don’t know the name.”</p><p>“A Sith perhaps,” she nodded, determined. “We can help you.”</p><p>He wanted to be grateful, but when he looked around, he saw only a handful of them.</p><p>In front of him, the Armorer straightened. He winced when he thought about what was coming.</p><p>“Has your helmet been removed?” she asked with the familiarity of tradition.</p><p>There was a long silence. He just needed to lie; it’s not like they would ever know. Hadn’t he already decided this arbitrary rule was not worth risking the greater fight?</p><p>He looked around at the small group of Mandalorians left, remembering how so many had already died the last time he needed their help.</p><p>He just couldn’t do it, not when he still had other options, no matter how distasteful they were.</p><p>He sighed, then reached up to lift off the helmet. “Yes,” he admitted.</p><p>There was a silence around him; he could tell the others were now watching.</p><p>“I see,” the Armorer said. He imagined he could hear a hint of disappointment in her voice.</p><p>There was a strong urge to explain. “I gave it to another,” he started. “She gave her life to help protect the Child.”</p><p>The Armorer sounded perplexed. “You gave your helmet to someone outside the Creed?”</p><p>“No,” Din shook his head, adamant. “Not outside the Creed, not exactly. She was a Mandalorian but had removed her own helmet...a long time ago.” He still wasn’t quite sure how to explain this.</p><p>The heavy infantryman, the one that had helped with the Child way back on Nevarro, stepped up then to listen. He and the Armorer looked at each other before the Armorer looked back at him, waiting.</p><p>“The fight mattered more,” Din finally explained.</p><p>The Armorer sighed. “Then you are no longer a part of the Tribe,” she stated simply.</p><p>He blinked, then he could only nod. It was not like it was unexpected, but somehow he still wasn’t prepared for the sick feeling in his gut.</p><p>The Armorer turned to the large man beside her. “Paz. Take Din Djarin to the armory. Make sure he has everything he needs.</p><p>Din looked back and forth at them both. “I...I don’t understand.”</p><p>“We are no longer obligated to help you,” she explained, "but we still can if we want to."</p><p>He felt a tightness in his heart. He looked down at the kid still at his hip and gave him a light tug at his ear.</p><p>“Thank you,” he said sincerely.</p><p>When the Armorer went to leave, he called out after her. “You should know. Bo-Katan is trying to get the darksaber. She’s trying to become the new Mand’alor.”</p><p>The Armor didn’t seem surprised at that. “Our ways are older than some sword. We are governed by honor, not the fickle politics of whoever wields some antique.”</p><p>Din looked back at her, then just nodded before following the large man.</p><p>The next room was filled floor to ceiling with weapons, some of which Din didn’t even recognize.</p><p>Surveying the shelves, he reached for a canister of some liquid.</p><p>“I wouldn’t open that,” the man, Paz, warned.</p><p>Din folded his hand back.</p><p>Paz pushed it back. “Organic explosive, meant to get past any sensors. Unfortunately it very unstable when exposed to oxygen.”</p><p>Din moved onto the next shelf. “And this?” he asked.</p><p>“That is a very large gun.”</p><p>“Perfect.”</p><p>It didn’t take him long to assemble an impressive pile. There was a familiar confidence in preparing and organizing a cache of weapons. Paz came over to survey the collection with him. He seemed to hesitate as he stood there.</p><p>“This person you gave the helmet to...she died?” he asked.</p><p>“Yes,” Din said. Then he hesitated. “...or was captured; I don’t know.”</p><p>The large man nodded. Then he walked over to a side cabinet, carefully pulling out a wrap of leather. Paz placed it on the pile with the other weapons.</p><p>Din flipped the leather cover over. It was an old knife, not particularly useful compared to the other weapons. There was a symbol carved into the handle; it looked like some clan symbol.</p><p>He looked up at Paz, confused. “What is this for?”</p><p>“In case that other one still lives, she’ll need a weapon too,” he explained simply.</p><p>Din stared at him, but he had already turned away. While Din looked at the man, helmet on, clearly discouraginig further conversation, Din had a flash of understanding Neera’s urge to tease and poke at their absurd stoicism.</p><p>Instead, he simply flipped the leather back over and laid it out next to the rest of the weapons.</p><p>He looked over the pile again, the confidence suddenly draining. It wasn’t enough. Collecting the weapons was cathartic, but it didn’t solve anything, not really. As much as he appreciated the help, he didn’t need more weapons; he needed bodies. And judging by the small numbers he saw in the covert, they had already sacrificed enough the last time they had helped him.</p><p>And then there was the fact that he didn’t even know what could kill a Jedi...or whatever that thing was called.</p><p>He needed to be smart about this, but he was still stuck between Gideon’s and Bo’s own machinations. With a sigh, he looked around the room one more time. If he didn’t like their plans, then he still needed to find his own way.</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For some reason I just can't bet motivated to write a decent Sith-like Big Bad. Just picture a Palpatine-y character, who for now will be labeled the generic 'Darth Sith-ious'</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You sure about this?” Cara asked.</p><p>“Not really,” Din admitted. “But I couldn’t come up with a better plan.”</p><p>The kid winced when he slipped the needle into his arm. </p><p>“I’m sorry, buddy. This is the last time; I promise,” Din made a vain attempt to comfort him as he drew the blood. </p><p>The little quiver on the kid’s chin made his heart hurt. He hated this—hated Gideon, the Empire, whoever else was behind this–for making the kid whimper like that. But it was infinitely better than risking them ever catching the kid. </p><p>When he pulled the kid into his lap afterward, he seemed to settle down, wiping away a tear as Din pressed a tiny bandage into his arm. </p><p>“You’re going to stay with Aunt Cara and Uncle Greef while I’m gone,” he explained. </p><p>The kid immediately looked up at the word ‘gone.’ Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, just left while the kid was distracted. But he also wasn’t guaranteed to make it back. Better to say something than risk vanishing without the smallest of warnings.</p><p>“Hey Mando,” Cara nudged him. Din looked up to see the two Mandalorians walking towards them. </p><p>The Armorer greeted Greef with a formal air, Paz standing a few steps behind with a ridiculously large gun tucked under each arm. </p><p>“I ordered you some back-up in case anyone gives you trouble,” he explained to Cara.</p><p>The two came over to meet them, Paz stopping in front of Cara to give her a once over.</p><p>“You look adequate,” he determined with a satisfied nod. “Take this,” he said, dropping a rather large Gatling gun into her arms.</p><p>The sudden weight made Cara stagger back. She turned and raised an eyebrow at Din. </p><p>He just shook his head at her. A part of him regretted missing the inevitably awkward attempts at conversation between them, but he had an appointment to make.<br/>
------<br/>
Gideon and his men were already at the old abandoned building Din had stipulated. He could see the five stormtroopers they had agreed upon; it had seemed like a fair ratio against a single Mandalorian. There was no sign of the cloaked figure from his view jetpacking in. </p><p>Din touched down to the roof, careful to avoid the many holes and gaps in the decaying rooftop. At least the open-air location gave him a quick getaway if he needed it. </p><p>“Where’s the other one?” Din immediately started, “your ‘Master’? I told you I want assurances from you both that you will stop hunting the Child,” he demanded.</p><p>“Proof of blood first,” Gideon countered. </p><p>Din took a breath, turning the vials in his hand. He walked forward to place one of the three vials on the ground between them. </p><p>“No,” Gideon protested. “Not that one; pick another one.” </p><p>Din blinked. It was a good reminder that Gideon was not stupid; he would have thought of almost everything before Din had. </p><p>Din placed the vial on the floor then backed up slowly to the roof edge. </p><p>He watched cautiously as Dr. Pershing walked up. The little man hurriedly took the vial and scuttled back to a small device already set up. There was a moment when the doctor did a double-take at the color of the dark purple-red blood inside, but he quickly moved on, opening the vial ever-so-briefly to drop a small sample onto a glass slide. </p><p>Din held his breath as the sample was processed through the machine. </p><p>The doctor finally nodded. “It’s the correct blood,” he confirmed. “No one else would have an M-count this high.” Though after announcing that, he went back to studying the results again with a furrowed brow.</p><p>Gideon turned back to Din, raising a hand to make a grasping gesture. “Now the rest,” he demanded. </p><p>“Not until—” Din started. </p><p>The cloaked figure walked out.</p><p>Gideon turned sharply. “Darth Sithious,” he greeted the figure with a bow of his head. </p><p>It was the same imposing figure they had seen on that day, the one Neera had warned them about. Then the hood dropped. It was just an old man, nothing outwardly special or threatening. Somehow he still gave Din chills, though. </p><p>Din rolled the two remaining vials in his hand. He needed them both together on this. </p><p>“Take your helmet off,” the figure, whatever he was called, demanded. Din couldn’t get himself to refer to the old man with that name; it was too ridiculous. </p><p>Din shifted on his feet; to his side, he could see Gideon’s jaw tighten, but the man didn’t say anything. </p><p>Finally, he obliged, doing his best to flatten his expression before his face was exposed, though he still never knew if he was actually succeeding.</p><p>The old wizard peered at him, searching his face until his gaze grew uncomfortable.  </p><p>“You will bring us back more of his blood every month,” the wizard-man decided.  </p><p>Din cast a glance at Gideon, who did not react. Of course, they were pulling this. </p><p>“No,” Din protested, shaking his head. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”</p><p>“You care for the Child,” the sorcerer guy explained. “There is no other choice. Not if you want to ever stop running and let him finally have a good life.” </p><p>“Serving as a blood farm for you is not a good life,” Din protested. Closer. He needed them closer. </p><p>The wizard-man raised an eyebrow. “Some extra motivation then,” he said, turning to nod to two of the stormtroopers nearby. They promptly disappeared into the ship behind him. </p><p>Gideon blinked. “My Lord, as I said, I don’t recommend this—” </p><p>But Gideon suddenly grew silent when the old man raised a hand, curling it into a fist. It took Din a minute to notice the strain to Gideon’s neck, the slight bulge to his eyes. He was being strangled, blinking back the panic in some desperate attempt to maintain the appearance of composure. </p><p>“Enough of your objections,” the old man sneered before releasing Gideon from his grasp.</p><p>The two stormtroopers returned with someone between them.</p><p>Neera. </p><p>She walked between them, hands held in restraints in front of her. She had a look of weary annoyance as if the guards had just rudely interrupted her day. </p><p>Then she saw Din standing there. Her face immediately brightened to a look of relief. </p><p>“Oh, thank God,” she sighed.</p><p>Din barely had time to contemplate why she would be relieved when she had already dropped the two guards and was striding towards him.  </p><p>The wizard-man started to protest. </p><p>“Shut up,” Neera quickly interrupted him. </p><p>Din was still trying to recalculate the dynamics in the room, how he would need to change his strategy when she had wrapped her hands around his neck to kiss him. </p><p>Behind them, the wizard just gave a satisfied smirk. “Yes,” he encouraged them, “have your little reunion; your attachment only makes you weaker.”</p><p>Neera was apparently perfectly fine with that advice. She just leaned in further, hands trailing down to his waist and slipping under the armor until things grew mildly inappropriate in front of the others. Din choked out an awkward noise, taking a step to brace himself when she kept going as if oblivious to the others. </p><p>He peeked open one eye to see the wizard-man begin to frown.  </p><p>Screw it, he thought. Why not. It seemed to piss him off enough. He swapped the remaining vials to one hand and wrapped the other around her, going right ahead and letting himself lean into it with her. </p><p>“Enough!” the old man shouted. </p><p>With a frustrated sigh, Neera finally relented, unwrapping herself as the old man commanded. As she walked backward, though, she kept her eyes on Din, the familiar wolfish grin playing on her lips.  </p><p>The old man seemed impatient now. “Every day you don’t bring us the blood is another day she will experience unimaginable pain,” he curtly explained. </p><p>Din turned to glance at Neera. She looked oddly content as if this situation perfectly suited her. Seeing her in her element just made him stand straighter, the uncertainty of the last few months starting to slip away. He looked back at the old wizard, or whatever he was. </p><p>“No,” he said simply. </p><p>The wizard-man didn’t hesitate. He raised his hands, shooting some kind of force or sparks at Neera, who immediately collapsed to the floor in pain.</p><p>When he finally relented, she pulled herself off the ground, spitting out a dash of blood from where she must have bit her tongue during the torment. </p><p>Raising herself up on her elbow, she looked back at Din. “Did you cut your hair?” she managed to ask. </p><p>He couldn’t help but give a small laugh. </p><p>“It looks good,” she told him. </p><p>Din turned back to the old man.</p><p>“You really don’t understand Mandalorians, do you?” he said. “You should have listened to Gideon.” </p><p>To his side, Neera laughed slightly before rolling over to lay spent on the ground. He couldn’t help but notice that she had ended up right next to one of the gaps in the rooftop, one hand draped over the side, her fingers wrapping around some exposed rebar. </p><p>Still too close. The old man was too close. </p><p>The old man raised his hands again, face twisted in anger when the blood machine made a violent popping sound. </p><p>The doctor jumped in surprise. The glass slide with the blood sample had suddenly shattered in the machine. </p><p>Din cursed to himself. Too late; he had to just make a move.</p><p>While the others were distracted by the machine, Din put his helmet on. No one else seemed to notice that little detail. Except for Neera, Neera noticed. She was watching him then, squinting at him before following his gaze to the doctor who was now fussing over his machine.</p><p>The doctor looked at the broken slide with the blood sample. Perplexed, he picked up the original vial but immediately dropped it back down, hand wincing back. </p><p>“Is something wrong, Doctor?” Gideon sighed. </p><p>“It’s hot,” the doctor complained, sucking on the hand before shaking it out. The doctor returned to more gingerly open up the vial to peer into the remaining blood. </p><p>Gideon frowned. But before he had a chance to think about it, Din interrupted him.</p><p>“Gideon,” Din called out. “You’ll never have his blood: not now, and not ever.” Then he threw one of the remaining vials at Gideon, tossing the other as close to the old man as he dared.</p><p>Gideon simply stepped aside, letting the vial miss him and come crashing to the floor. He raised an eyebrow at the vial as it simply bounced and then rolled to a stop behind him. </p><p>Of course it didn’t break, Din cursed. </p><p>But there was no going back now. The rest of them were still looking confused when he dove to cover Neera, pulling them both over the nearest gap in the roof just as the first vial exploded in front of the doctor, the other vials finally shattering one after the other.</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He felt the floor below slam into his back while Neera tried to shield herself on top of him. Before he even had a chance to curse, a second blast went off, the crumbling floor giving way underneath them.</p><p>They immediately crashed through the next floor.</p><p>Then the next.</p><p>Then the next.</p><p>Until they finally hit something solid.</p><p>They landed with a thud as debris rained down from above.</p><p>"Fuck," he finally let out, the dust settling around them.</p><p>He realized Neera was shaking on top of him, her hands going to her head as she rolled off him.</p><p>"Are you hurt," he demanded, propping up on one elbow to get a closer look.</p><p>It took him a second to realize she was laughing.</p><p>"What the hell was that stuff?" she asked.</p><p>He finally allowed himself to let out a breath. "Magic Jedi blood."</p><p>She rolled her eyes at him from behind her hand. "That's not a thing."</p><p>"It is if you add organic explosives to it," he pointed out.</p><p>She groaned, shaking her head before resting it back against the floor.</p><p>As much as he could still picture her, it was odd to see her in the flesh again. She looked the same—albeit a bit thinner, definitely paler, and her hair looked like it had been hacked at. It was just so much new input all at once, a whole new fresh supply of mannerisms instead of the same worn-out interactions replayed in his head.</p><p>He realized she was watching him watch her.</p><p>"You got your helmet back," she pointed out.</p><p>A slight cock to the helmet was his only response.</p><p>She was still eyeing him but then cleared her throat, tipping her head to nod at his back. "So, were you planning on jetting out of here?"</p><p>He sighed, looking up at the tunnel of floors they had just crashed through. No movement up above yet "...that was the plan."</p><p>"Mind if I catch a ride?"</p><p>The lower level was dark around them. Not exactly an open-air exit. He looked around at the dark hallways.</p><p>There. There was a bit of light coming around the corner.</p><p>"It's going to be more of a controlled fall," he warned, offering a hand to help her up. "This thing is not exactly meant for two."</p><p>"Good enough."</p><p>When they reached the opening to the outside, Din cautiously peered out to get a glimpse of the rooftop now above them. He could see the start of some sort of activity. No way he killed them all. Gideon, at least, maybe. Anyone left would be gathering themselves by now.</p><p>He turned to look at the possible landings below.</p><p>It was...not ideal. But manageable.</p><p>Then he turned back to her. She was still watching him—like she was perfectly content to sit back and enjoy seeing him do his work.</p><p>"I'm going to aim for that slope," he explained quickly, "but you'll have to hold on."</p><p>The way she was eyeing him was just...not helpful right now. It felt very deliberate when she stepped up to wrap her arms around him. Fine, it was a hug too, but one of them still needed to focus on getting out of here.</p><p>"Ready?" he asked.</p><p>The only response was a satisfied humming sound against his shoulder.</p><p>He restrained a sigh. She could be worse than the kid at letting him just focus on the job.</p><p>The attempted flight went about as well as he could have imagined, though it still ended with a bit of a rolling landing.</p><p>It didn't take long for the ship to touch down next to them. The door opened to reveal Cara still anxiously eyeing the rooftop at the not-too-distant building.</p><p>"Not exactly where we agreed upon," she grumbled.</p><p>"I had some extra weight," Din explained, moving aside to reveal Neera next to him.</p><p>Neera lifted a hand to block the sun from her eyes, then gave a little cordial wave. "Nice to see you again, Cara."</p><p>Cara raised an eyebrow, then just gave a snort of laughter, shaking her head before disappearing back into the ship.</p><p>Inside, he did his best to find her room to sit. There wasn't much time, though; already, he could hear the whine of TIE fighters behind them.</p><p>He glanced behind his shoulder where Cara was furiously trying to take out anyone still pursuing them.</p><p>He looked back at Neera. "I've got to—" he started.</p><p>But she immediately shooed him away, already settling in against the wall to simply sit back and rest her eyes.</p><p>It would have to wait until they were in hyperspace; he could check in with her then.</p><p>But even after they were pulled into the hum of hyperspace, it took him a while to tear himself away.</p><p>There was still chaos around them when he finally managed to tear himself away; Cara could handle whatever was left. Neera must have heard him approach. When he came to a stop next to her, she peeked open one eye while he hesitated there.</p><p>He was about to sit down next to her when the cockpit door opened, and the Armorer stepped out. Neera's eyes shifted over to the new figure. She seemed to recognize the other woman right away but only gave a dry laugh before going back to resting against the wall.</p><p>"We will be coming out of hyperspace soon," the Armorer announced. "Correct?" she turned. Paz had come out to stand silently behind her. The large Mandalorian didn't answer but instead stood looking in the direction of Din and Neera.</p><p>The Armorer glanced at him again, waiting.</p><p>"There will be a countdown," Paz finally muttered before turning to disappear back into the cockpit.</p><p>That was less bold of a pronouncement than Din was used to from the man.</p><p>It had caught Neera's attention, though. At that voice, her eyes had opened again, shifting to stare at the cockpit where Paz had just disappeared. His shoulder was still visible just past the door.</p><p>Din suddenly remembered the knife Paz had given him.</p><p>Neera was still staring at the cockpit threshold, mouth in a firm line, when she got up to walk to the cockpit.</p><p>Before Din could get up to follow, the Armorer stopped him.</p><p>"Din Djarin, may I have your attention for a moment."</p><p>Hesitating, he glanced at the cockpit, at Neera heading towards it. There was something he wasn't getting. But he nodded anyway, allowing the Armorer to pull him aside.</p><p>He wasn't even sure what she was going on about. For a woman of few words, she was going on about some strategy that really didn't seem important right now.</p><p>He cast a glance over the Armorer's shoulder again. Neera had plopped down in the co-pilot's chair to just sit and stare at the large Mandalorian now next to her. Of course, Paz, the prototypical Mandalorian, just ignored it, keeping his gaze trained forward to pilot the ship. Though Din could have sworn he saw Paz shift slightly in his seat as Neera continued to stare at him. She looked vaguely miffed about something.</p><p>He should really go warn her off; the man was not known for his sense of humor. But when he tried to step away, the Armorer stopped him again.</p><p>Looking past Armorer's shoulder, he could see Neera still sitting there and staring. Finally, she took something from her belt, some kind of metal cylinder, and placed it on the dash in front of Paz, never taking her eyes off of him.</p><p>It took a long moment, but the large man's shoulders finally dropped an inch. He reached out to subtly push the metal cylinder back towards her and went right back to stoically staring straight ahead.</p><p>They were almost landing now, the Armorer finally relenting in her strategy session, when Din looked up to see Neera finally getting up to leave Paz alone. On her way out, one of her elbows jostled the man's helmet, accidentally or otherwise. Paz, once again, showed no reaction.</p><p>She was coming back towards them now, passing the Armorer with a respectful nod. He wanted to ask what all that had been about, but it really wasn't his place.</p><p>Her face completely changed when she came over to stand beside him, joining him to look back at the cockpit.</p><p>"I'm pretty sure that's my god damn baby brother," she huffed.</p><p>"Who?" he asked, doing a double-take at the cockpit, "Paz?"</p><p>That...actually made a lot of sense.</p><p>Neera's eyes snapped up at the name. He could see her visibly swallow before she went back to contemplating the shoulder still visible past the threshold to the cockpit.</p><p>This was a lot, he realized: the cramped ship, the constant noise and commotion around them as they landed. He should probably get her away from all these people.</p><p>Before he could do anything about it, the doors opened, and there was a squeal of delight when the kid saw Neera. She managed to pull herself away to bend down and greet him, one hand briefly at her eye before she broke out into a smile for him.</p><p>Greef followed in, then the young woman from the village Din occasionally hired to help babysit. There were too many people. At least Neera knew most of them. He saw her glance up at one point to study the one new person, like she was trying to place her.</p><p>Din immediately went over to the woman, one hand to her arm to gently encourage her to go outside with him; they could settle up out there. All the while, he could feel Neera's eyes on them as he tried to guide the woman outside.</p><p>By the time he sent her off, the rest of them had all moved to his cottage. The Armorer and Paz were walking out when he got there.</p><p>Paz just gave a perfectly curt, cool nod and continued on his way.</p><p>Typical, Din muttered to himself, hand tightening against his side as he walked in to join the others.</p><p>Greef was carrying on about something while Neera sat at the little table. Din could see she was trying to hang in there, but she was barely able to slip in a nod between the gaps in Greef's story. Din shot a look at Cara as she stood next to Greef. Thankfully, she immediately picked up on the hint and gave Greef a sharp elbow, gesturing at the door.</p><p>Greef finally caught on. "Well, you get the idea," he finished. He hesitated to glance around the room, spotting the kid. "I am stealing this little one for a bit," he added, reaching to pick up the kid, "you'll have to come and pry him from me whenever you want him back."</p><p>The kid was attempting to chatter back at Greef when the door closed behind them.</p><p>And then they were alone. He stepped forward, taking off the helmet to set it on the counter. It felt defiant somehow, some kind of contrast to the curt shoulder of the other Mandalorians outside.</p><p>"Let me get you something to drink," he offered. He should really keep some tea ready. Behind him, she muttered some quip he couldn't quite make out.</p><p>"Sorry?" he asked, turning towards her.</p><p>But she just shook her head, looking a bit frustrated that whatever she said hadn't come out right. Her hand went to rub her forearm while she took the moment to look around the room.</p><p>He hesitated but then turned to continue putting on the kettle. It was taking forever to boil, and he found his fingers absentmindedly tapping against his lips while he waited. Sighing, he dropped his hand. Not really what should be on his mind right now; he could at least get her something warm to drink.</p><p>The water still wasn't done. He gave the kettle a rattle, having to remind himself to be patient and keep a lid on it done right. By the time it finally started whistling, his knuckles were nearly white against the counter, like he had been trying to will it to hurry up.</p><p>When he finally turned back with the cup of tea, he caught her looking at him. It took him a minute to remember that seeing him without the helmet would still be new to her.</p><p>When he placed the cup in front of her, she cleared her throat.</p><p>"Thanks," she said.</p><p>He set down the knife Paz had given him. "Does this have some meaning for you?"</p><p>She scoffed, picking it up to roll it over in her hands. "Not really. Just Paz's alternative to simply acknowledging me."</p><p>He took the moment to try and look her over. The arm she had been absentmindedly rubbing looked a bit raw. He tried to get a closer look. It was nothing. A few marks, a little irritated, but nothing bad, considering.</p><p>It still made him irrationally angry. It made him think of the kid wincing when he took his blood, that and the curt shoulders of the other Mandalorians...that she had just been sitting somewhere the whole time.</p><p>The feeling ticked down the rest of him, threatening to take over. Instead, he parked himself against the counter, arms crossed, keeping his face as flat as possible. None of that was her problem.</p><p>He glanced at her arm again. "Was it bad?" he asked, voice still coming out a bit clipped.</p><p>She eyed him for a moment, glancing at the other chair at the table before considering her one solo cup in front of her. Finally, she gave a small shrug. "Once they realized I was going to be a pain in the ass, they pretty much left me alone, just kept me in a cell by myself and out of the way. My own personal oubliette," she added with an awkward laugh.</p><p>He frowned. "So you've been in solitary confinement for almost a year?" It came out angrier than he meant it to.</p><p>There was a pause; her brow was knotted like that sounded odd to her. Why did she look so confused?</p><p>"How long did you think it had been?" he asked.</p><p>She opened her mouth briefly, thinking, then closed it again, as if whatever she had been about to say didn't seem rational when she went to say it out loud.</p><p>Instead, she shook her head, giving a short laugh. "Hard to make a clock when gravity keeps changing. But it did give me a hint of when they would switch planets."</p><p>She seemed a bit proud of that last bit...until she saw him squinting at her and realized he would have no idea what she was talking about. She grew quiet again, fiddling with the cup of tea before one hand absentmindedly went back to her forearm. Her face twitched slightly at the touch, like she had just winced a little bit.</p><p>Her nails were digging into it.</p><p>It was self-inflicted, he realized, those small marks on her arm. Like some kind of bad habit she'd picked up.</p><p>He had a sudden urge to pull her hand away.</p><p>She must have seen the look on his face. Straightening in her seat, she pulled a sleeve over her arm and cleared her throat. She suddenly seemed more polite, formal.</p><p>"It wasn't so bad," she said. "The only reason they would hold me there was to eventually use me to bait you. So there was the small consolation that as long as I was still there, they hadn't caught up to you two yet."</p><p>"So, when they brought you out…" he started.</p><p>She shrugged again. "Figured they had finally found you both and no longer needed me."</p><p>Then she paused, considering. "At least it told me you guys had gotten away," she started, speaking with greater care now, "that you hadn't taken your helmet off for nothing." She stole a glance at him again but quickly moved on. "It was a good fight," she assured him, a small smile appearing, like it was a fond memory. "You should have seen it. You would have been impressed. Your helmet made the difference from a much more embarrassing attempt."</p><p>Somehow her words sounded both overly rehearsed but out of practice at the same time. It was like she was trying to assure him, like she otherwise would have been ashamed of something.</p><p>He was silent for a bit.</p><p>"I didn't come look for you," he admitted.</p><p>"What?" she looked confused. "Of course not. Why would you?"</p><p>"Gideon told me where you might be."</p><p>She gave a derisive snort. "Of course he did. Is that when he gave your helmet back to you?" she asked. "What a vindictive ass. He really didn't like it when I pointed out that he was being rather emotional."</p><p>"Well, you did maim him," he reminded her.</p><p>There was a short laugh before she grew serious again.</p><p>"No...you were supposed to go on with the kid, do well together. That was the whole point."</p><p>She hesitated then, forcing herself to straighten in the chair, like she was preparing to say something formal.</p><p>"I wondered about you," she added, "how you were doing after taking it off. That was a big change for you."</p><p>He didn't say anything.</p><p>"It doesn't have to be bad," she assured him. "At least you'd have some freedom to live your life a little more. Finally being able to be with others is one of the better consolations of losing the helmet." She stopped to give a dry laugh. "I mean, there's a reason they get us to swear the Creed before puberty hits," she added, then seemed to realize it was not the time or place for that kind of comment.</p><p>She cleared her throat again. "Anyways, it was nice...to imagine you getting to experience that."</p><p>He was still staring at her arm. Her hands were clasped around the teacup like she was trying so hard not to let her hand go back to worrying at it. The image of Paz's curt shoulder ticked at him again.</p><p>She shook her head then. "I probably shouldn't have kissed you like that," she added. "I realize it's been a long time since we last saw each other. I guess I took a little liberty," trailing off a bit before coming back around to jokingly point at him. "I'll always be your first kiss, though," she teased.</p><p>Her god damn hand was back on her arm. He could just tell she was squeezing it again under the table. She wasn't drinking her tea, and her damn hand was back at her arm.</p><p>His mouth screwed tighter together, as if the anger, or restlessness—or whatever this energy was— would otherwise spill out while he was trying to stand there and listen.</p><p>"So 'Sorry,'" she added with a playful formality, "if I was a bit overenthusiastic."</p><p>"Stop...apologizing," he finally interjected.</p><p>Quiet.</p><p>There had been the handful of women who would have clearly welcomed him over the last year. At the time, he told himself he needed to tend to the kid or keep his head down while they were still on the run, but it was always an excuse. It had just felt unearned, like they were taking advantage of someone else's work.</p><p>"And no," he answered.</p><p>She blinked. "No what?"</p><p>She looked suddenly keyed up, pivoting to watch him intently. "Have you not…" she started, gesturing outside at the others, before losing the thread and centering back on him.</p><p>"Din." She said his name suddenly, like she was trying to break through the air in the room or snap them both out of something.</p><p>A stressed hand pushed through her hair. "You're not supposed to be harder to read without the helmet..." she muttered, grumbling something about Mandalorians. Finally, she gave an exasperated sigh and looked up at him.</p><p>"How," she started, "are you still just standing over there?"</p><p>He shifted. He didn't really have an answer to that. Things suddenly felt more open, the arms across his chest out of place. He had the creeping sensation that he was still getting something wrong, like he was falling into patterns he couldn't recognize. She was eyeing him, not taking eyes off, just a short distance away in her chair. And there was that tightness, or drop in his stomach, as if expecting something soon. Not really anger, or restlessness. Anticipation, maybe.</p><p>Whatever it was found its way to twitch at the corner of his mouth. He could feel her still staring at him, primed at the edge of her seat.</p><p>"I needed to make sure you were okay first," he finally explained.</p><p>There was a curse, followed by the screech of the chair when she got up. "I will be," she huffed, walking over to him.</p><p>He had caught her forearm before she could make the first move, pulling it away and putting himself between it and her. Both other times she had caught him by surprise, but he wanted to be the one to start it this time. There was a noise in surprise when he kissed her first, and he felt her immediately relax against him when his other hand buried into her hair to pull her in closer.</p><p>It was a moment before she managed to pull herself away. A thumb grazed across his lip while she attempted to study his face, see his response for once. Then she broke out into a stupid grin; it was a look of pure relief. The corner of his mouth twitched up a notch under her thumb.</p><p>Screw it. They both had had enough of calm, conscientious restraint.</p><p>They never had time to savor it before, enjoy it. But now, when he kissed her, it felt like some blindspot he hadn't known was there had been removed. He could feel her hum against him with each of her little sighing sounds, her hands trying to find any way under the armor. Each touch seemed to make her need more, quickly getting desperate to get the rest of the armor off.</p><p>
  <span>Then they were on the bed, an actual bed, not the too small cot with its hard edges, but one with firm lines, interspersed with soft blankets. He was buried in the crook of her neck, breathing muffled against her, her hands buried in his hair. There wasn’t room to think about anything else. She kept saying his name, begging him for something. She was completely grasping at him, desperate for more contact. </span>
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  <span>He wasn't much better, and he was completely fine with that.</span>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>4/18/21: Updated Chapter 14 to fill in some more sexy times details</p><p>4/18/21: New filler chapter added between original Chapter 6 and 7 (so now Chapter 7).  Just two Mandalorians being awkward about a hug.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He must have fallen asleep. It looked to be dusk outside; the little cottage now dark and quiet.</p><p>The energy pouring off of her from where she lay beside him was palpable, though. He could tell she was wide awake...and her hand was back to digging into her forearm.</p><p>"You're doing it again," he muttered.</p><p>She cursed, shaking out her arm. "It just helped me from getting lost in my head," she explained.</p><p>She attempted to settle back in next to him. It was warm there, under the blanket, no other layers between them, and he was in no particular rush to get up just yet. Though he wasn't quite sure what people typically did once they were there. It was far too early just to go to sleep. Did they just lay there quietly? Did they talk the whole time?</p><p>Whatever it was, it didn't seem to be working for her either. The minute things got still, or she started to drift off, she would snap back awake, immediately picking up the same restless energy. The needling at her arm had stopped, but only to be replaced by one hand fidgeting at her side: her thumb pressing into the tip of each finger, one after the other—as if that was any better.</p><p>He finally had to grab her hand, giving it a squeeze until she stopped.</p><p>That stilled her for a bit. She blinked, staring at her hand in his, her brow furrowed as if trying to decide if it was really there.</p><p>He could remember what it felt like, coming in from the cold after so long. That first touch of human contact was almost painful, like the blood rushing back into a limb that had gone numb. The first time she kissed him had burned at his lips. But at least he had a gradual reintroduction. He couldn't imagine going from complete isolation to...this.</p><p>"Too much?" he asked.</p><p>She laughed between biting a nail on her other hand. "Yes and no," she admitted, dropping the hand to instead hold it out in front of her in the dark. "Whenever I close my eyes, I still see the same four walls," she said, closing one eye and then the other while she rotated the hand in front of her curiously, "like it's burned into my retina."</p><p>He couldn’t quite comprehend what it would be like to experience the same thing every day for so long. "Sleep might help your brain get used to something new," he suggested.</p><p>She let out a laugh as if that was easier said than done. "It's far too loud in here."</p><p>He glanced around the perfectly quiet room but didn't say anything.</p><p>It was still too early to go to bed, anyways. "Maybe a shower and some food?"</p><p>There was a reluctant nod between worrying at a nail again, and he got the feeling that wasn't quite going to do it either.</p><p>He made her some food anyway, giving her space while she cleaned up. It was a bit odd to have someone else other than the kid around at this latest home of theirs. Walking around barefoot, quickly throwing on a light pair of pants and the well-worn sweater a repairman must have left behind on Trask. It was a bit oversized, but at least the shoulders fit, and the stretched-out sleeves could be rolled up as he cooked. He had a sneaking suspicion his hair was a mess, but he still hadn't figured out the best way to deal with that.</p><p>At least he had gotten used to cooking for someone else now that he had the kid around. He threw a dishcloth over his shoulder as he sampled the soup; it was definitely an improvement from the subsistence meals he used to make for himself. And to be honest, he was enjoying the little taste of domesticity.</p><p>When she came back in, she unhooked a metal cylinder from her belt to place it on the table. It was the same metal cylinder he had seen her place in front of Paz earlier.</p><p>"What is that thing?" he asked.</p><p>"The darksaber," she said simply.</p><p>He did a double-take. "They let you keep it?"</p><p>"Gideon's idea," she said, pulling up a chair. "He convinced Sithious not to take it for himself. Better strategy to mess with Mandalorians' heads and keep us divided...or something like that"</p><p>With a flick of her wrist, a dark light emitted from the cylinder. It had the shape of a blade but was more like an outline of light, shimmering at the edge, with a deep darkness at the center. Neera angled it to study it for a moment, then retracted the blade and tossed the metal hilt back onto the table with a sigh.</p><p>Din watched it roll to a stop at the table. It was a unique weapon, sure, but it was still just one blade. It hardly seemed worth all the drama. He gave it a second look and then turned back to the pot of soup. It was much more enticing to relax into this little kitchen than think about any of the politics outside right now. He was guessing she felt about the same.</p><p>Plus, there was the way she was taking the opportunity to eye him every time he turned his back again. He stayed with his back turned a bit longer, giving the spoon a few taps against the lip of the pot. It had to still feel new to her, seeing him casually walking around, without the helmet or any of the armor.</p><p>"Where are your scissors?" Neera asked from behind him. She had pulled a strand of still damp hair through her fingers and was studying the uneven ends.</p><p>"Bottom drawer," he answered with a tilt of his head.</p><p>After some scuffling, there was a sound of frustration.</p><p>"Here, let me help with that," he offered. Not that he was used to women's hair, but it still had to be better than a self-cut.</p><p>"Thanks," she said, handing him the scissors, "that has been annoying me."</p><p>He pulled up the ends she had struggled to reach. It looked like there had been an attempt to hack at one section. No, that wasn't it. The ends looked melted.</p><p>"Did you try to cut this with the darksaber?" he asked.</p><p>She gave him a look. "It was annoying me," she repeated.</p><p>Okay…</p><p>She must have seen the look on his face. "It's not like I had anything else around."</p><p>He just shook his head. "At least you didn't try to shave with it."</p><p>That made her bite back a smirk. "I was hoping you hadn't noticed."</p><p>He gave her a look, ignoring that comment and dropping a bowl of soup in front of her instead.</p><p>She seemed interested at first, leaning forward to sample it, but then immediately made a face, looking dejected and frustrated as she dropped the spoon to sit back.</p><p>Whatever. It was good enough for the kid.</p><p>When he took his spot leaning against the counter across from her again, she pursed her lips—just a bit—as if slightly disappointed with something. He had the creeping feeling he was getting something not quite right again.</p><p>"I don't think I killed that Jedi, Sithious...whatever his name is," he admitted.</p><p>She sighed. "No, probably not. It was a good plan too. But I have a feeling you purposefully missed him to avoid blowing me up along with him."</p><p>He didn't bother saying anything to that.</p><p>She was shaking her head now. "He needs to die," she said simply. "And we're not likely to have a chance to get that close again. Getting rid of Gideon helps; he was the strategy. But Sithious is arrogant, not stupid. He'll be more prepared now."</p><p>She paused to look at Din. "The kid won't be safe while he's still around. And we can't win against him on our own."</p><p>Not like she needed to convince him of any of this. He had already processed that running wasn't working, and now he'd just lost the one plan he had to take him out.</p><p>"Bo has an army now," he pointed out. He hesitated slightly before the next bit. "She will help, but only if she can challenge you for the darksaber first."</p><p>Neera scoffed. "More like she wants me to have to throw the fight...be seen as beating a Mandalorian' Jedi.' I'm sure she would love it if I lost to her publicly, finally get rid of the rumor of some challenger in the shadows." She shook her head. "No, that's no good."</p><p>That didn't have many options. "She's coming for you either way," he warned her, "once she realizes you're out."</p><p>Neera raised her eyebrows, considering something. "Well, that's easy. I'll just go lose it to Sithious. Then she'll have to bring her army against him to win it back."</p><p>Din laughed.</p><p>Then he saw she wasn't laughing.</p><p>Instead, she kept talking. "Plus, me losing to a Sith lord would hardly damage my reputation as a challenger for the darksaber...once she does have it again."</p><p>Din stayed perfectly still. "...What."</p><p>She kept going, oblivious to him frozen there. "Hell, just surviving that...again, would only increase how much they're worried about me."</p><p>She was actually seriously considering this, already running through scenarios in her head, growing more engaged as she worked through the details.</p><p>He couldn't sit there anymore. "You <em>just</em> got back," he finally interrupted.</p><p>She seemed to suddenly remember that he was there. She squinted at him but didn't say anything.</p><p>"How the hell does any of that not involve you dying?" he asked. "You <em>just</em> did this," he repeated, voice getting louder.</p><p>He could see the set in her jaw starting. "Then you shouldn't be surprised when I do it again," she countered. "Just because I'm consistent..."</p><p>"Consistent…," he was shaking his head now. "You can't be 'consistent' about being suicidal."</p><p>She rolled her eyes, scoffing. "I'm hardly suicidal. I sat alone in a cell with the darksaber for a year. If I was suicidal, I would have done something about it."</p><p>"I <em>just</em> found out you were alive," he pointed out. He was practically shouting now but had stopped caring at this point.</p><p>"That's how it feels to<em> you</em>," she said, trying her best to keep a patient tone. "For me, I've been sitting in a box for a year that felt like three. Because that was what was required. And now I want to stretch my damn legs."</p><p>He glared at her. This was insane.</p><p>She looked almost disappointed at his reaction. "This is what I do. How do you not get that yet?"</p><p>When the look on his face stayed the same, her shoulders dropped, just an inch, stressed hands pushing through her hair.</p><p>"I can't <em>sit</em> anymore, Din."</p><p>There was a crack of pain under the otherwise obstinate front. "Just let Bo win the sword from you," he said. "You said you were fine with her taking leadership."</p><p>She was already shaking her head. "No."</p><p>"She won't try and kill you. It's losing one fight."</p><p>"No." She was even more adamant this time. "One, I don't think you really believe that or trust her to hold to that. If you did, you would have told her the location Gideon gave you. But it doesn't matter; I refuse to lose to her."</p><p>He couldn't believe she was doing this. "This isn't worth your pride."</p><p>That set her off. "If you think it's about that…," she started, then made herself take a breath, gathering herself to start again. "She <em>needs</em> to think there are challengers. Right now, she still thinks there's the threat of some Mandalorian Jedi out there. I would lose that. And she needs to be kept in check," she tried to explain. "It's a responsibility."</p><p>"You said you weren't even any good at the Jedi stuff."</p><p>Neera paused. "...Yeah, but she doesn't know that."</p><p>"So it's all a bluff then?"</p><p>"No…," she rationalized. "I just don't <em>know</em> if I could beat her."</p><p>"Then any of us could do it, whatever it is that's so important. I could still challenge her; anyone else can."</p><p>"No," she shook her head again, "not as long as you have the kid."</p><p>He balked. "What does that have to do with anything?"</p><p>"You think I've never come across some stray?" she snapped. "Some kid who was looking at me like that? Asking for my help? I didn't take that on that responsibility for a reason. It's great that you made that choice; I love that...but he will always be your top priority. It will be all you'll think about, care about, and Bo will know that. There's another reason they encouraged people to take in so many foundlings, to have so many kids. No one could move. Not without risking their families. You can't take care of him and also make a stand.</p><p>"A stand on what?!" he was shaking his head. "You haven't even explained why it's so important to keep Bo in check."</p><p>She eyed him then, considering.</p><p>"... It's complicated," was all she said.</p><p>That was not at all goddamn helpful. How could he be on board with any of this if she didn't even tell him why?</p><p>"No," he finally had to call it. "Just no. Absolutely not."</p><p>"'<em>No</em>'?!" she raised an eyebrow. "You seem to be mistaking me for your kid. If you think for one second that I'm going to just sit here…"</p><p>"There's a big difference between just sitting and running into a death wish. Just rest for five goddamn minutes."</p><p>She glared at him. "I'm done 'resting.' I will throw myself into another fight if I damn well please."</p><p>This was absurd. She was just digging in further the more they talked, like she was latching on to this stupid idea just for the sake of having something to argue about. He was doing his goddamn best to make her comfortable, and instead, she just wanted to look for something to push back on, to prove she was free to do what she wanted. Some typical goddamn Mandalorian, restless for a fight...</p><p>Oh, right.</p><p>He got up, walking over to her to confrontationally lean one hand on each arm of her chair. "Fine," he said. "I would just prefer if you stuck around for a little longer this time."</p><p>Then he looked her up and down, the bowl of soup still sitting there, untouched. "Eat your soup," he demanded.</p><p>Her eyes narrowed at him, and she sat back instead. "It's cold."</p><p>"You need to eat," he repeated.</p><p>"I'm not hungry," she countered. "I had a steady supply of gruel I could take from a tube any time I wanted."</p><p>God, that sounded sad. Did they not even show up in person to give her a meal? Anything to even mark the time?</p><p>"Eat."</p><p>She pushed the bowl away. It ended up precariously close to the edge of the table.</p><p>She eyed it, considering the teetering bowl.</p><p>"Don't," he warned her. "I <em>will</em> make you pick that up."</p><p>So, of course, she looked him right in the eye and batted the bowl off the edge of the table.</p><p>The bowl clattered to the ground, soup splattering onto the floor.</p><p>He sighed. "That's it..." Then he reached down to sweep the legs of the chair out from under her before she could react.</p><p>It was one of the more ridiculous fights he's ever been in. Turns out, it's nearly impossible to force someone to pick up a bowl. The tussle immediately degraded into them on the floor, him trying to stretch her arm out to make her grab the bowl, while she had wedged a shoulder against a cabinet, legs locked around his waist to try and hold him back. She literally pulled on his hair at one point while he tried to wrap her fingers around the lip of the bowl.</p><p>He almost had it when she suddenly stopped struggling and focused, using whatever powers she had to push the bowl just out of reach.</p><p>Goddammit. "Stop...cheating," he cursed.</p><p>"It's not cheating," she protested. "You're just...jealous," she added as she strained to unlatch his hand from her wrist.</p><p>There was a triumphant sound when she finally freed herself, managing to roll on top of him and pin his arms down. He was too distracted by the argument to bother resisting.</p><p>"Jealous?" he raised an eyebrow, "what, because you can move something a few inches? Hell, the kid can lift up an entire mudhorn, and he's just a baby."</p><p>She whacked him in the chest at the dig, but laughed, bending to kiss him instead.</p><p>It was hard not to get started again. His hands had already found their way to her sides as she stayed for more, hands finding something thick to grip just past her hips. Within the kiss, he could feel her sigh when his hands encouraged each little movement, starting to add a little to more to each shift against him.</p><p>But then she broke away, cuffing him lightly before abruptly hopping off.</p><p>He dropped his head back to the floor, attempting to vent a slow exhale. This was going to take him a minute. He could still feel her start to rock on top of him. How she, on the other hand, managed to turn it on and off so quickly, he had no idea.</p><p>He rolled his head to the side to see exactly what she was up to.</p><p>She was putting on a boot.</p><p>Of course. He rolled his head back to address the ceiling. "Where are you going?" he asked.</p><p>"Out," she said sharply. "I have things to do. Not going to sit here playing house while Sithious is still out there."</p><p>He rubbed his face. "I don't think you're going to find him tonight," he pointed out.</p><p>That was met with a look, followed by another determined pull at her laces. But then she paused to glance around, biting her nail like she was lost while looking for something. Her face still looked flushed.</p><p>From his spot on the floor, he tilted his head back. The other goddamn boot was right behind him.</p><p>When he turned back to see if she had noticed, their eyes met. Then her gaze shifted to lock onto the boot. It was right next to him. Did she seriously think she could reach it before him?</p><p>Apparently.</p><p>She started for the boot, crawling over on hands and knees to reach for it.</p><p>His hand clamped down on it just as she reached it. That stopped her, for now, at least, and he sat up, reaching from behind her to try and firmly pry it out from under her hand.</p><p>He would have had it too, if she hadn't immediately responded by leaning back into him—like she just couldn't help it. So maybe not so 'off' after all. Seeing how easy it was to make her hesitate again was just a little bit exciting/turn on. It didn't help that he was already plenty keyed up. And the fabric between them was so thin, he could feel every inch when she rocked back against him.</p><p>Boot forgotten, his hand dropped to brace himself against the floor, other hand hitching her hip up another inch when she let out a small moan in front of him.</p><p>But then she let out another curse, one hand slamming on the tabletop above in a determined attempt to drag herself off the floor, the damned boot still firmly clutched in her hand.</p><p>Make up your mind, woman, he cursed, dropping back onto the floor. He noticed her stretching across the table. She had better not be picking up the darksaber, he thought.</p><p>He tilted his head back.</p><p>She was definitely picking up the darksaber.</p><p>He stretched an arm back, poking two fingers into the back of her knee to urge her to buckle and come back down. She shook him off, doing her best to ignore him.</p><p>Finally, he got up. Based on how indecisive she was being, there was a good chance of just talking her out of it.</p><p>But when he tried to take her hand, she pulled some kind of move, whirling around to lock him in a hold that sent him falling on top of her. They landed on the table with an 'oof.'</p><p>"Stop...trying to distract me," she huffed.</p><p>He managed to shoot her a look in between trying to unlatch her hand from around his neck. He was hardly the one holding him here.</p><p>Finally prying her hand from his neck, he managed to slam it back down on the table behind her, taking the other one that still held the darksaber to slam it back as well.</p><p>"You can wait," he said, catching his breath while hovering over her, "till morning. We will sit down and figure out a plan then," he insisted.</p><p>She was still breathing hard—but watching him.</p><p>Then he looked at her, on the table, legs still wrapped around him, but still for now. His eyes shifted up to the darksaber in her hand. He reached up to take it.</p><p>That got her attention. She immediately tried to sit up, eyes wide.</p><p>"Wait—" she started.</p><p>She stuck out a hand, indicating with an opened palm. "Give it to me," she demanded.</p><p>She almost looked concerned. He ignored the urgent hand and instead held the cylinder behind his back.</p><p>"Just stay," he repeated.</p><p>She rolled her eyes. "Yes, of course," she said quickly, "but you need to give it to me, now."</p><p>What was she, worried? It was not as if Bo and her army were going to burst in while this thing happened to be in his hand.</p><p>He hitched the darksaber to his belt, then brushed her hair back behind her shoulder.</p><p>"No," he said simply, bending to instead kiss a spot on her neck.</p><p>The outstretched hand dropped an inch. "You don't want that thing," she tried again but then swallowed when he moved to a new spot just below her ear. She forced herself to straighten. "Give it. Now."</p><p>He was at her shirt. "Not yet," he persisted, toying with one clasp and then the next. He could see how shallow her breaths were. Slipping past the fabric, he took in her fullness in one hand, feeling her react when his thumb caressed her. The blood rushed out of his stomach at the visible hitch in her breath. She was ready to run off to some sith lord, and <em>this</em> was making her breath hard?</p><p>Her weight shifted back another inch onto her elbows, letting him as he explored the boundary between her neck and collarbone. It took him a minute to remember the boot still clutched in her hand, making a distracted effort to pull it away and finally toss it aside.</p><p>He stepped back, pulling on the laces of the other one. There was a resigned noise when her now bare foot landed back against his chest, hovering somewhere between kicking him off or just resting her foot there. He could feel her toes pressed against his chest through the coarse wool of his sweater.</p><p>When he pulled at the hem of her pants, there was a last bout of a half-hearted kicking motion...but it really just served to help pull off the pant leg, removing one, then the other.</p><p>He tossed the layer in the corner, along with the now-forgotten boots. Hand on either side of her, he bent to kiss her stomach, watching her suck in a breath in response. All that stilled when he moved to kiss the hip bone like it was more anticipation than sensation. One hand was in his hair, lightly starting to entwine fingertips in a few waves. There was the sudden realization that they could finally finish what they had started before, when he didn't have to fear not being able to stop.</p><p>He got down on one knee, then the other, testing how her response, her occasional muttered curses suddenly trailing off until she was unusually quiet. When her hand started twisting tighter in his hair, she grew more focused, simply staying consistent as her breaths became increasingly audible, exhales occasionally punctuated by something unintelligible.</p><p>The momentum was broken by a sudden curse, and she started to shift under him, breaths becoming something in between an obscenity and a moan. He just wrapped his arms tighter around her legs, not letting up as she tried to gain purchase, pulling at his hair and then the table in between cries, until he felt her back arch, that final shudder passed through her.</p><p>When she was finally done, he kissed the inside of her thigh, allowing himself to feel a little bit smug as he stood back up. He could see her chest still rising and falling, hand on face to push back sweat-streaked hair.</p><p>But it didn't take long before her hand flopped over the side, making a much lazier attempt at a grasping motion.</p><p>"Give it."</p><p>He sighed. Fine. Reaching back, he unhitched the darksaber to hand it to her—which she immediately tossed into a pile of clothes on the far side of the room.</p><p>Then she dragged herself to sit up, her hand taking a stern hold of a twist of sweater at his chest.</p><p>"Don't you dare get mixed up with all this," she insisted, looking serious now. "Nothing good comes from holding on to that thing."</p><p>She was hovering there, contemplating his sweater still gripped in her hand before looking him up and down. Then she glanced down at the floor, looking back up at him before tugging at his sweater to pull him back down to the floor with her.<br/>
. -----------------</p><p>They ended up lying spent in a pile on the floor, and it actually seemed like she was able to relax for more than five minutes this time. Eventually, she got up to clean up the mess of soup she had made, tidying everything before pouring herself a fresh serving.</p><p>Cup in hand, she came back over to settle on the floor beside him, leaning against the wall and pulling his head into her lap as she went back to attempt another sip.</p><p>"How is it?" he asked honestly.</p><p>She gave it another sample. "It's not bad," she said with a nod. "My stomach's just used to eating the same thing every day."</p><p>She had relaxed back against the wall, her hand running through his hair in between sips—which was a sensation he didn't know he'd been missing.</p><p>She was quiet for a moment. "It's not a bad plan, you know. Bo couldn't win the darksaber back from Sithious alone; it could only be won from him by Mandalorians working together. Rule would have to be shared."</p><p>"Did you wait till you had your hands in my hair to bring this up again?" he grumbled.</p><p>That made her smile. "Are you saying you're enjoying this?"</p><p>He rolled his eyes up at her to shoot her a look.</p><p>She bit back the smile, going back for another run through his hair. "Nah, no strategy. Just relaxed."</p><p>"You could at least explain why it's so important not to lose it to Bo...what she's done that was so bad."</p><p>"Worried if I tell you that, you might try to kill her yourself."</p><p>"I don't care about some old Mandalorian politics."</p><p>She frowned. "You might."</p><p>He sighed. He couldn't really argue with that vagueness.</p><p>"Then why are you okay with her having it," he asked. "Why let her take it at all. Just keep it."</p><p>She sighed. "I don't want it and, frankly, wouldn't be very good at it." She paused for a moment, like she needed to correct something. "She does want power, but it's not completely selfish. She knows she's the best option for Mandalore. She's done bad things...but the other factions are worse. There's Jazten for one. And I'm guessing she can't win his followers unless she has the sword."</p><p>"Well, maybe they're loyal to this other guy for a reason."</p><p>There was a derisive snort. "Easy to win loyalty if you steal yourself a bunch of child soldiers," she said.</p><p>She hesitated for a moment. "Not everyone took foundlings out of some sense of honor or responsibility," she added. "Others just learned the lesson that foundlings were an easy source of indoctrinated soldiers. They weren't so lucky to be guided by the same honor code as when you were taken in."</p><p>He tilted his head to look up at her. "Why do you assume I was a foundling?"</p><p>She frowned. "We've had this conversation, haven't we?"</p><p>He glanced up at her with a questioning look, then added a slow shake of his head.</p><p>She blinked. "No, maybe not," she realized. "My father was a foundling. I know they say we're supposed to be treated all the same, but you could always tell," she said. "How did it happen for you?"</p><p>He was quiet for a moment. "Separatist droids."</p><p>There was a shake of her head, then a dry laugh. "Let me guess, and some Mandalorians came just in time?"</p><p>He glanced up at her again. There was a tightness to her jaw he didn't like, but he just gave a short nod.</p><p>She was silent for a bit.</p><p>When she started up again, she was hesitant, like she was testing how he'd react to the next bit. "….Not everyone waited to stumble across foundlings. Jazten, for one, has been purposefully creating them to grow his faction for decades: challenging the strongest just to kill them and take their kids, raiding the not-so-strong when he just wanted to grow his numbers. He would wipe out anyone who opposes him and refill numbers with stolen children. Bo knows it's better for everyone if she wins instead of him." She took another sip of her soup. "Though I'm sure he'll be after me soon as well," she added with a dry laugh.</p><p>"So, yes, she's the better choice…," she continued, "but she's not perfect. I didn't lose my helmet for nothing when I challenged her faction when I was younger. It was...important."</p><p>She paused, staring into the cup as she rolled it in her hand.</p><p>"We're not good people, Din. Not without constraints."</p><p>Then she let out a short laugh. "Besides, it's not like you can stop me from going ahead with it anyway."</p><p>"Then why do you keep trying to convince me it's such a good plan?"</p><p>That made her smile. "Don't mistake thinking out loud with asking for permission."</p><p>He grumbled something. "I can always tell Bo where you are before you go through with it."</p><p>"Good. I want her and her army right on my heels."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"I don't actually want to die. I just have to lose it to Sithious, but I wouldn't mind if she shows up right before he can kill me."</p><p>He frowned. "How would you ever get that timing right? You'll need to find him before Bo finds out you're back with the darksaber."</p><p>She didn't say anything to that. He could tell she was thinking, though.</p><p>"Just don't do anything, or tell her, until we figure out where Sithious is now."</p><p>He shook his head. "I'm not promising anything."</p><p>She laughed. "Fair enough." Then she set her cup down and teasingly clenched a handful of his hair, forcing his head to tilt back an inch. "But can you at least stop feeding me like I'm the kid? I was really looking forward to finally being able to sit at a table with you for a drink."</p><p>He had been doing that, hadn't he? He glanced up at her, still waiting for a response.</p><p>"Fine," he acquiesced, keeping up the stern charade for just a little bit longer.</p><p>"Good," she said, releasing her grip and settling back against the wall. She at least seemed content then, running a hand through his hair while she finished the meal he had made for her. He wasn't going to complain; they could deal with the rest of it later.</p><p>
  
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was gone when he woke up.</p><p>The darksaber was still there, though. Still sitting on the floor, as if it had been completely forgotten. He very much doubted that, but at least he knew she hadn’t gone far. Most likely, she hadn’t been able to sleep...that, or didn’t particularly want to. Any time undistracted seemed to throw her back into those same four walls she’d been sitting in for the last year.</p><p>But he couldn’t worry about that now. He had the kid to think about, and he had already spent too long away. Greef was probably regretting the offer to watch him; the kid had been testing everyone’s boundaries lately. It had been a tough year for the little guy, with bursts of frustration and occasional acting out. Hopefully, Greef had gotten some help. Din threw on his helmet and headed out to get him.</p><p>On his way over, he did spot Neera across the yards, chatting with Cara as if asking her to show her something. So, totally fine.</p><p>Whatever she said made Cara raise an eyebrow. He had just passed them when he heard a body hitting dirt. Glancing back, he saw Neera shaking it off...and immediately asking Cara to show her that move again.</p><p>There was another thud behind him as he walked on. Even before, Cara would have easily outweighed her, and Neera had lost a lot of muscle since then. Not sure how much it was helping that to have her ass handed to her multiple times in a row by Cara.</p><p>When he got to Greef’s, the local girl who helped out—Darie? Daria? He could never quite get her name right—was finishing up feeding the kid. He gave her a nod, handing her some credits and telling her he could take over. Usually, when he had to interact with her, she gave him a sweet smile, eager to tell him how the kid had done. But this time, she was curt, expression flat as she simply brushed by him.</p><p>Not sure what that was about, he glanced back briefly before bending to pick up the kid. He had that feeling again that he wasn’t getting something quite right. Like when he’d been standing in the kitchen yesterday, trying to give Neera some space to get her bearings. Instead, she had suddenly seemed guarded, like she was hedging something. It had been such a sharp change from the no-holds-barred greeting when she first saw him at the meeting with Gideon.</p><p>He paused, the kid, meanwhile, trying to paw his way up his shoulder. Had she thought he was her? with Darlie? The girl was young, but not actually a kid, probably in her early twenties.</p><p>It had been nearly a year, after all—or longer, to Neera. And the first thing she did when she saw him was to drop three guards to rush over and kiss him. He, on the other hand, did...nothing? Focus on getting them out of there with zero facial expression—and then stepped out of the room to confer, alone, with some new young woman holding the kid in her arms.</p><p>No wonder she sat there with a hand needling into her arm when he came back in. They hadn’t even been there to get her out. She had popped up as an unexpected rescue for members of a clan that had already exiled her once...and a brother who barely acknowledged her. And the one person she might have hoped would be excited to see her might instead now view her as an inconvenient third wheel. Sitting there, trying to ready herself to pack up and head off on her own, alone, again—right after a year of what must have been unbearable isolation. And the whole time, he just stood there, giving her space and a polite cup of tea.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>Din sighed and rolled out his neck. He was really going to need to get better at this.</p><p>At his shoulder, the kid made a satisfied cooing sound. Din looked down. The little guy’s head was contently planted against his shoulder. This was the first time in a while the little guy looked truly relaxed.</p><p>“And what are you so happy about?” Din teased him.</p><p>The kid gave a little shrug but otherwise didn’t move from the spot.</p><p>As they were walking back, Din saw Paz sitting outside, cleaning some rifle on the porch of his little cottage. Paz, with whom Din had had barely more than the briefest conversation, who had known Neera all his life.</p><p>Din hesitated, then walked over. He slowed when he came up next to him, the kid looking up to blink at the larger man.</p><p>“Hey,” Din greeted Paz.</p><p>Paz looked at him, then gave a short grunt in response, his attention dropping back to the weapon.</p><p>“Do you, uh…” Din started, “have any advice on talking Neera out of something?”</p><p>Paz stopped, his helmeted head turning to look at Din. Then he snorted a laugh, shaking his head. “I have no idea how you got her to sit still for this long.”</p><p>Din didn’t answer that.</p><p>Also, it hadn’t even been a day.</p><p>He did hold to the promise that they would sit down and work out a plan to deal with Sithious. The first thing they had to do was find him. Greef, at least, had some connections he could leverage; Din got the impression that he had been busier than he let on, building up an information network for this very purpose. Not that they knew what they would do when they found him, but it was a start.</p><p>And he had no solution for the darksaber problem. If it was really a problem.</p><p>It seemed to be enough, though, for now. There were no more insistent attempts to run off and lose the darksaber in some ill-conceived fight or to get it away from the rest of them. As long as Bo Katan didn’t know it was out, they had some time.</p><p>Neera still needed to stay busy, though. There was at least the pretense of checking out the rest of the planet. Every day, she would find someone’s ship to ‘borrow’ and head off in one direction or the other. Not that he could really complain. If he was honest, he wasn’t used to having people around all the time either—other than the kid, of course.</p><p>It was at night that she would come back. She’d try not to wake them, but he always knew when she slipped through the door. The nights the kid snuck out of his bassinet to cuddle in beside Din, she would come in and lay down next to them, giving the kid an extra tuck of his blanket. He would feel her studying him sometimes, like she felt freer to look at him through the dark. Eventually, he would ask her where she had gone that day, just to let her know he was awake.</p><p>The other nights, well, he was more strict on making the kid stay in his own bed. Then he would find some excuse to stay up, pretending to be busy with some task or other.</p><p>She would walk in and see him still up, alone.</p><p>“Where’s the kid?” she would ask.</p><p>“Asleep,” he would say, then clarifying, “in his pram.”</p><p>She fiddled with the part he was working on. “...Huh.”</p><p>Then she would catch his eye, a small smile slipping in, until he finally dropped the pretense—as if he hadn’t been thinking about it all day.</p><p>Other times, when he had given up and gone to bed, she would just slip in beside him, hand finding a way through the layers to rest on his bare chest. It never took much to get started again. Eeach night they would do their best to keep their sighs from waking the kid.</p><p>It was the afterwards that he liked the best. No more pretense, or combative little back-and-forths, just wrapped up around each other, relaxed. Inevitably, her hand went back to his chest, like she needed to find his heartbeat to finally fall asleep.</p><p>But that never lasted long. After an hour or two, she would jolt awake, sometimes blinking up at the ceiling, sometimes sitting up—one hand anchored on him, like she just needed a reminder of where she was. He knew what that was like—falling into the background thoughts every time you let your guard down to sleep. Though, now that he thought about it, his own nightmares had largely stopped since the kid had been around. Probably too worried about waking him up after finally getting him to sleep.</p><p>As long as he could stay awake with her, distract her, she seemed fine. And he would try to stay up, but often it was just too relaxing. Eventually, they would fall into having sex again, or relax into talking, and, at some point, he would drift back into sleep. Every time, she was gone when he woke in the morning, probably not wanting to wake him for the fifth time that night. Occasionally he would hear it when she finally gave up on sleep, sitting up with a curse before pulling on her shoes.</p><p>And who knows what she got up to then.</p><p>He was half-awake one night, the kid passed out beside him, when he heard her come back in. She was trying to be quiet, but he could hear the shower running and then her rifling through some boxes.</p><p>Slipping into the bed next to them, she gave an extra tuck to the blanket covering the kid.</p><p>“Where was it today?” he asked.</p><p>“South, over the mountains.”</p><p>“Anything interesting?”</p><p>She shrugged, in a way that was far too casual. “It’s pretty much a wasteland, old abandoned buildings. But there’s a lake out west I’ve been wanting to show you two.” Then she immediately deflected by reaching up to play with a wave of his hair.</p><p>“Uh-huh. Are you going to tell me why your hair smells like blood?”</p><p>She froze, then relented with a short laugh. “...can’t believe you can pick up on that after the shower.”</p><p>“Yup. Yours or someone else’s?”</p><p>“Mainly someone else’s,” she admitted, hand going back to brush through his hair. “There was more splatter than I expected.”</p><p>He sighed. “...do I want to know?”</p><p>“Nah,” she said, bending to kiss him.</p><p>He gave her a look, not letting her drop it.</p><p>Sighing, she dropped her hand, mulling what to say.</p><p>“Just...don’t go south,” she finally settled on.</p><p>But he couldn’t ignore that she was there less and less every night. He started to doubt she was sleeping at all. It was possible she was just trying to avoid disturbing their sleep; she had caught the kid rubbing his eyes and nearly falling asleep at a few meals.</p><p>When he couldn’t find her at the typical training grounds one day, he walked around the cottages instead.</p><p>There was a sharp whistle to his left.</p><p>Paz was sitting on his porch steps again, cleaning a weapon as usual; that seemed to be all he did. He gestured Din over with a sharp tilt of his head.</p><p>When Din walked up to him, Paz gestured behind him.</p><p>There was a figure passed out on the bench on his porch. It took Din a second to recognize Neera under the blanket.</p><p>“She shows up here sometimes when she can’t sleep,” Paz explained, barely shifting his focus from the rag he was using to clean the barrel.</p><p>Well, that was some consolation. Better than being off causing who-knows-what trouble in some neighboring town.</p><p>“How long has that been going on for?” Din asked.</p><p>Paz tilted his head, as if confused by the question. He shrugged. “Since she was 14 or 15.”</p><p>“That’s not—... never mind.”</p><p>“Want me to wake her?” Paz offered.</p><p>Before Din could stop him, Paz had twisted towards her.</p><p>“Neer!” Paz shouted, chucking the rag to hit her square in the face.</p><p>With a grumble, Neera shifted awake, taking a moment to look in surprise at the blanket on top of her. She gave it a suspicious sniff.</p><p>“—your boyfriend’s here,” Paz pointed out, going back to his weapon.</p><p>That made her straighten. There was an attempt to comb a finger through her hair as she turned towards him. “Hi,” she said, trying to gather herself.</p><p>Next to them, Paz gave a snort at the obvious uptick in her voice.</p><p>Neera paused long enough to shoot him a glare. “You want me to go tell Cara that you were asking for her help to lift something heavy?” she shot back.</p><p>Paz dropped a hand from the barrel, slowly turning his head towards her—as if wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean.</p><p>“Hey!” Din interrupted. He was starting to feel like a spectator at the sidelines of some match. “Greef is back. He’s going to tell us what he learned about Sithious.”</p><p>Neera hummed something, then gave a yawn. “You can fill me in later,” she muttered, giving a languid stretch before turning to nestle into a patch of sun.</p><p>That came as a surprise, but he tried not to show it. This whole time, he had been strategizing how to get the info without her hearing it first. After all her insistence to go run off to lose the darksaber Sithious, he had been surprised to see her drop it so quickly.</p><p>He walked over to Greef alone.</p><p>“Anything?” Din asked.</p><p>But instead of telling him to get the others, Greef gave a furtive glance around then pulled Din to the side.</p><p>“He might already be here,” Greef said.</p><p>Din did a double-take. “What? How?”</p><p>“I’m afraid we may have a leak, my friend.”</p><p>Din looked around the few scattered cottages across the yard. There weren’t that many options. “How much time?”</p><p>“We’re okay for now,” Greef said, following his gaze. “Luckily, they seem to only have half the information. They’re on the other side of the planet.”</p><p>Din looked up. “Where, exactly?”</p><p>“South,” Greef said. “There have been more and more stormtroopers patrolling down south.”</p><p>Din nodded. It was the only thing he managed to do while he processed the information. Greef laid out the details for a bit longer, but Din’s mind was elsewhere by then. He thanked Greef and stood there to watch him walk away.</p><p>Of course, she wouldn’t just sit around until they could find Sithious. Why wait when she could bait him to exactly where she wanted? Bo Katan too. That’s how she would get the timing right, how she would manage to have Bo and her army right behind her when she lost the darksaber to Sithious.</p><p>Walking back to the cottage, he rolled out his neck, shaking his head. Really shouldn’t have expected anything less.</p><p>When he walked in, the kid was standing in the middle of the room, like he had been eagerly waiting for Din to come through the door.</p><p>Din sighed. Not this again.</p><p>“All right, where is she?” he asked.</p><p>The kid’s eyes darted to the tall cabinet before he could stop himself, then he turned back to Din and gave his best attempt at an innocent shrug.</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>Din stepped to the cabinet, ready for Neera to try and greet him by pouncing on him yet again. He couldn’t help but snort at the failed attempt; the kid always gave it away. Hooking one foot on the bottom of the cabinet door, he swung it open from a safe distance.</p><p>The cabinet was empty.</p><p>Oh no.</p><p>The impact came from above this time, Neera wrapping around his shoulders in an attempt to tackle him to the ground. It took him a second, but he finally managed to untangle from her enough to get the upper hand.</p><p>On the ground, she let out a satisfied chuckle when he finally let her go. Next to them, the kid was lost in a full-on belly laugh. Apparently, someone had discovered a new strategy.</p><p>Catching his breath, Din gave the kid a suspicious glare. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”</p><p>The kid managed to gather himself enough to feign another little innocent shrug. Then immediately lost it again at the new deception he had learned.</p><p>“Did you teach him to do that?” he accused Neera as he offered a hand to help her up.</p><p>“Nah,” she said, with a short shake of her head, “that was all him.”</p><p>With a quick hug, the kid pattered down to go find some food. Neera was about to grab a third plate when she gave Din a once-over.</p><p>“Are you heading back out?” she asked.</p><p>He realized his helmet was still on. “Yeah, I’m going to do some maintenance on the ship,” he decided, grabbing some tools that happened to be sitting on the counter.</p><p>At the door, he stopped, remembering something. He turned back to Neera.</p><p>“Does Paz have a thing for Cara?” he asked.</p><p>“How would I know?” Neera grumbled, “it’s not like he <em>talks</em> to me.”</p><p>When she saw him still hovering there, she shook her head. “I was just trying to get a reaction out of him,” she said.</p><p>Din rapped his fingers on the side of the door. “Right…” then finally dropped his hand and pulled himself away.</p><p>In the cockpit, alone, he pulled off the helmet. He’d never heard the kid laugh like that before.</p><p>One hand rubbed his face as he mulled the comms unit in front of him.</p><p>She hadn’t even pretended to care what Greef had to say. He’d already decided some old Mandalorian rules and politics weren’t worth it. This wasn’t any different, not really. And she still hadn’t even tried to explain why it was so important not to lose to Bo.</p><p>
  
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